


Love, Teresa

by Browneyesparker



Series: Love, Teresa [1]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Gen, Jisbon, Pen Pals, Romance, The Mentalist - Freeform, grade school, letter writing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-03
Updated: 2014-10-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 15:56:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2074188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browneyesparker/pseuds/Browneyesparker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 years. 100s of letters. Dozens of e-mails. A story of how two people become friends and then fall in love through words. Jisbon. Major AU. Rated T. Slightly based on "One Day" and "Love, Rosie".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t going to write this but it’s been in my mind for a couple of weeks now. So, I decided to type it up and see what kind of reception it got. It was inspired by the novel “Love, Rosie” written by Cecelia Ahern and then a little bit by “One Day”. But this will have a much happier ending, I promise. You don’t need to read the books or see the movie to know what’s going on. Hope you’ll stay a while.

.  
Chapter 1 

Florida

Dear Teresa, 

My name is Patrick Jane, I’m in the sixth grade and I drew your name from a hat when we were picking pen pals. I’m going to be completely honest with you and tell you that I didn’t really want to be pen pals with a girl and especially not with a girl in the third grade. But it is what it is, so I guess I should do my best and try to forge a friendship with you.

Like I said, my name is Patrick and I’m in the seventh grade, I’m twelve-years-old. I’m an unusually smart for my age. My likes include history, classical music, classic cars, and reading. I dislike other children, math, sports and pop music. I live with my dad in a trailer park, I'm an only child (I think) and I've never met my mother.. I think. We don’t have any pets, but I am trying to persuade my father to get me a dog. 

In the summertime, we travel all over the united states with my dad’s old carnival. One day, I might even have my own show but only if my father can square things away with the owner. 

Tell me about yourself.

Patrick 

.

Patrick Jane read over the letter one more time and nodded in satisfaction. It was a good letter, he decided. Much better than any of the letters that his classmates would be writing to their pen pals in Teresa Lisbon’s fourth grade class. He doodled an elephant in the margin and then folded the lined paper in a neat square before sticking it into the envelope his teacher had given to him.

“Miss Perkins,” he said, forgetting to raise his hand again. “I finished writing my letter to Teresa.”

“Patrick,” Miss Perkins said, looking at him with gentle sternness. “What have I told you about raising your hand?”

“Oh, right!” Patrick replied, sticking his hand up in the air.

“Yes Patrick?”

“I finished writing my letter to my pen pal, Miss Perkins.”

“You may come and put it in the envelope then,” Miss Perkins told him. “And then you might as well get an early start on your homework.”

“Yes Miss Perkins,” Jane answered, hopping up from his seat and going up to the front of the room, he jammed his letter into the larger envelope on Miss Perkins desk and then sauntered back to his desk, ignoring the looks from the other students as he did.

.

Chicago

Teresa Lisbon’s friend Stella Hodge was chatting incessantly about their new pen pal assignment. She was excited because they were writing students that were three grades ahead of them. She sighed and buried her nose in her Trixie Belden mystery in an attempt to tune out Stella.

But her pretty blonde friend was persistent and not easily ignored.

“Reese,” she whined, pushing the book down. “Stop ignoring me!”

Teresa sighed and lowered her book. “Sorry.”

“Aren’t you at least a little bit excited about our new assignment?” Stella asked. 

“They’re just seventh graders,” Teresa answered. 

“They’re older than us,” Stella reminded her as she turned to the bus window and applied a thin layer of glitter lip gloss.

Teresa sighed and opened her book again. “We’ll be in seventh grade soon enough. Besides, it isn’t like we’ll ever get to meet our pen pals; they live a thousand miles away from us. It’s just for this grade. When we’re in fifth grade this assignment isn’t even going to matter.”

Stella wrinkled her nose and screwed her tube of lip gloss shut. “Geez.”

“What?” Teresa asked.

“You are such a grown up,” Stella replied. 

Teresa frowned. “Are you making fun of me?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Yes. Being grown up is the worst thing ever!”

“Weren’t you just excited because we’re writing letters to seventh graders?” Teresa asked, feeling the need to point out her inconsistencies. 

“That’s a different kind of older,” Stella answered haughtily. “You’re the kind of grown up that says no all the time and is so practical, you don’t even think about having fun.”

“I have fun!” Teresa insisted. 

“Yeah, reading your silly books and doing homework.”

“I have more fun that that!”

“Doing what? Watching the Cosby Show?” 

“You like the Cosby Show just as much as everybody else does in our class,” Teresa answered. “You’re confusing me today.”

The bus pulled to a stop before Stella got a chance to reply. The blonde stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. 

“See you tomorrow,” Stella said, waving at her. 

“See you tomorrow,” Teresa parroted, thankful for some peace and quiet after fifteen minutes of unfiltered conversation. 

As the school bus pulled away and she watched her designer-label clad friend go into her equally expensive house, Teresa took a moment to reflect why they were even friends. They were as different as night and day. She tugged on one of her dark braids and studied her red Converse high tops as she smoothed her hands down her denim overalls.

She decided not to think about it. The next morning, it would be like their spat hadn’t happened at all. Stella would pretend it hadn’t even happened and they would be best friends again. That was until Teresa did something to irk the other girl, again. 

She shook her head and picked up where she had left off in her book. 

.

A few days later, Teresa was chewing on the end of her pencil and trying to figure out what to write to her new pen pal. His letter to her had been short and to the point, she wanted to do the same thing. She didn’t want to overwhelm him with too much information. As it was, he had made it clear that he didn’t really want to write a third grade, never mind a girl. She closed her lips on the end of her pencil and sucked on it thoughtfully, twirling the end of one of her braids with her free hand. 

She looked over at Stella, who was still pouring over her letter and then back down at her own sheet of paper. Since this Patrick Jane had told her a little bit about himself, she decided to return the favor. She dated the top of the page and then in painstakingly neat penmanship, she began to write.

Dear Patrick,

I’m sorry you didn’t particularly want to write a girl. I guess fate had different ideas though. I will try to make this as painless as possible for you. You know my name is Teresa and that I’m in the fourth grade. I’m almost ten-years-old. I have three brothers; the baby was born two weeks before school started. I have one cousin on the way; my aunt says the baby will be a girl. If it is, they’re going to name her Kate. 

I live in a brownstone in the heart of Chicago. 

I like ice cream, pizza, reading, coffee, baseball, classic rock, dogs, and the Cosby Show, classical music is okay sometimes. My favorite piece is Bolero; I saw it performed at the symphony for my birthday last year. I dislike whiny brothers, other kids, long masses and ballet. But my mother makes me take it. My father is the chief fireman. One day I hope to be a homicide detective.

In the summertime I usually go and visit my grandparents. My grandfather taught me how to dance to Frank Sinatra this past summer. He loves Frank Sinatra. 

What about you? Do you ever see your grandparents? What’s your favorite book? Your favorite color? Do you like the Cosby Show? Do you even ever watch TV?

I’m looking forward to your reply!

Sincerely yours,

Teresa Lisbon

P.S

Thank you for the drawing of the elephant, I really enjoyed it. You draw really well. 

Satisfied with her response, she added one of her favorite stickers for decoration and then folded the letter into fourths before tucking it into the envelope her teacher had given her. She licked the seal and raised her hand. 

“Mr. Andrews, I’ve finished writing my letter.”

“Very good,” Mr. Andrews said. “You can come and give it to me for later and then get started on your homework or do some reading.”

Teresa nodded; she would start on her homework. It would give her time to play a round of catch with her father later on or at least finish the Trixie Belden book she was still working on. 

.

“Can I read your letter?” Stella asked on the bus ride home.

“I left it in my desk, Teresa answered.

“Can I read it tomorrow during recess then?”

“Why?” Teresa asked, folding her arms across her chest and arching an eyebrow. 

“Come on!” Stella coaxed, smiling prettily at her. “I’ll let you read mine if you let me read yours.”

“I would rather not; Teresa said primly as she opened her book and started to read. 

“Come on, everybody else is doing it!” 

“Well, I’m not everybody else. Am I?” Teresa answered, not looking up from her book. 

“Are you afraid I have a better pen pal than you do?” Stella asked her tone was laced with the playground superiority that Teresa hated.

It was actually the exact opposite, Teresa was afraid that Stella would think she had a better pen pal than her, then she’d put up a huge fuss and try to get her to trade with her. It had happened on countless occasions and she was sick of giving in to her friend’s tantrums and demands. 

“It isn’t that at all,” she finally answered. “I just don’t want to show you the letter I got.”

“Well, don’t expect me to share my letter with you!” Stella snapped.

“Don’t worry,” Teresa said, sighing. “I wasn’t even planning on asking.”

Stella fell into silence but Teresa got the feeling that her best friend wasn’t about to drop the subject. It didn’t matter though, for the first time in her young life, Teresa Lisbon decided she wasn’t going to share something. 

Except maybe with her mother.

.

Florida

When Patrick had finished reading his reply from Teresa, he decided that maybe having a girl as a pen pal wouldn’t be so bad. She was a girl of few words, short and to the point. And he could tell from her style of writing that she was very practical for her age.

It wasn’t going to be very bad at all he decided as he pulled out some paper from his folder and started working on his reply to her.

Dear Teresa,

I don’t have any grandparents that I know of. Since I never knew my mother, I never got to meet her parents (I assume she has them though because everybody who is born does) and my father says his parents died when he was a teenager. I don’t know if I believe him though because he hasn’t always been honest with me.

I do have sort of stand-in grandparents. They live two trailers down from us. Their names are Ethel and Fred, like in I Love Lucy. Sometimes after school, I’ll go to their house until my father gets home. Ethel makes brownies and serves them right from the oven with cold glasses of milk and Fred plays old records and dances with Ethel like they’re the only two people in the world. I do my homework to It’s Been a Long, Long Time. 

Ethel and Fred have one son named George, but he is married and lives in Europe with his Vietnamese wife, Bich but he calls her Jade because that’s what her name means in her language. They met during the war and he fell madly in love with her. They came and visited for the summer. The four of them are like the family that I never had. 

My favorite book is the Little Prince, it might look like a kid’s book but it really isn’t. It’s about figuring out truths about life and how to live. I quite enjoyed Peter Pan and the Adventures of Tom Sawyer too. 

My favorite color is blue because it’s the color of the ocean. I love the ocean. I’ve been surfing ever since I could stand up. One day, I’m going to have a house on the beach.

I do watch TV; the Cosby Show is pretty good. My dad doesn’t like it though, so I don't watch it that much. He has issues with black people being successful. I am not like him though, my best friend is named Eddie Miller and he’s a black boy. 

He’s the only kid I like, right now. I think I’m going to like you too though.

Do you have any favorite books? Any best friends? What’s your favorite color? 

Sincerely,

Patrick

.

Chicago

Since they had gone on a field trip the day their letters had come, Mr. Andrews let them write their replies at home as part of their homework. Teresa saved this assignment for last; she waited until she had finished her math to even read his letter.

“I’ve never seen you smile this wide because of this homework,” Siobhan Lisbon said as she added Guinness beer to her Irish beef stew. “Is this about the young boy you were telling me about? Your new pen pal?”

“Yeah.” Teresa answered. 

“Why don’t you save writing your reply for later and come help me with dinner? You can tell me more about your new friend,” Siobhan said as she put the Stranger on the record player. 

“I don’t know much about him,” Teresa told her as she put on the mini-apron her grandmother had given her for Christmas and pulled a chair up to the counter.

“That’s okay,” Siobhan answered. “Tell me what you know about him.”

.

Dear Patrick,

Wow. And people say I’m like a grown up! You’re just as much as a grown up as I am though. I’ve never read the Little Prince, although I’ve seen it at the library. I have a habit of finding books that have collected dust because they haven’t been checked out in a long time, so I think I’m going to have to read the Little Prince next. My favorite book is the Magician’s Nephew by C.S Lewis. My dad read gave it to me last year and I’ve reread it to the point of wearing it out. Mom says that she’ll get me a new copy if I get a good grade on my first test next week. 

My favorite color is green. It is the color of mine and my mother’s eyes and the leaves when spring finally arrives after a long winter. It is the color of Christmas trees and my favorite holiday is Christmas. It is the color of the four leaf clovers I am always searching for and the ivy that decorates our church. It is the color of Ireland, my mother’s and one of the color’s in the Portuguese flag. . . my father’s family is Portuguese. And my father says where we have come from, the people who have come before us are some of the most important things in history. So, my favorite color is green. 

My best friend is a girl named Stella. Her father owns a chain of local coffee shops; she is one of the richest girls in school. Except my mom says that I am not supposed to talk about her money because it’s impolite. I don’t know why though because Stella talks about it often enough. I do not know why we are friends really; we don’t have anything in common except our birthdays. I don’t want to be mean to her either, I may be a kid but I can tell there is something missing from her life. Something I have and that she doesn’t even though she has the more expensive version of everything I have. 

I am glad you have Ethel and Fred. Everybody needs family even if it is people that don’t have the same blood type or name as you. 

I think I’m going to like you too.

Sincerely,

Teresa

TBC. . .

.


	2. Chapter 2

.  
Florida

Dear Teresa,

I have an Irish background too. I guess we have one more thing in common than I originally thought. My father doesn’t care about our heritage though. The only thing he thinks about is money and himself. I am an inconvenience to him as he tells me on a daily basis. Maybe I shouldn’t be telling these things because you are a kid yourself, but there’s something about you that I can trust. And I hardly have anybody I can trust.

You told me about Stella, so I will tell you about Eddie. 

Eddie is the future first black president or a Baptist minister. He is the nicest kid that I know and completely non-judgmental. He’s a Boy Scout; in fact he is an actual Boy Scout. Despite all this, Eddie is sort of a loud mouth and you do not cross him when he is playing baseball. He takes baseball very, very seriously. I on the other hand, stopped playing baseball when I was too old to play T-Ball. 

I get along with him really well. He doesn’t mind that I don’t live in a nice house or that I don’t have a mother. He never calls me names or makes fun of me. He does have two parents and he does live in a nice house, I know because I’ve had countless sleepovers at his house before. They’re the kind of family that prays before they eat and say I love you before they go to bed.

I guess you know something about that though.

Eddie is looking over my shoulder and telling me that I shouldn’t tell you all this stuff. See? He doesn’t even know you and he has your best interests at heart. And now our teacher is telling him to stop talking in class and to please keep his eyes on his own paper. Eddie just passed me a note that said I should ask you a question from the list of suggested questions Miss Perkins gave us. 

So, I will. Even though I already know what your answer is.

What’s your favorite holiday and why? When’s your birthday?

Sincerely,

Patrick

“Do you want to come over?” Eddie asked Patrick. “My ma’s making lasagna and chocolate cake! Your favorites!”

“Now why on earth would she be doing that? Patrick asked, grinning at his best friend as he shoved his baseball cap on his head. 

“I don’t know,” Eddie answered mysteriously. “I guess we’ll just have to go home and see, now won’t we?”

“I guess so,” Patrick agreed. 

“Okay then!” Eddie said. “Let’s get going before my mom freaks out.”

When they got the Miller’s house, there was an afternoon snack waiting for them with classical music blasting from the radio on the kitchen counter. Mrs. Miller looked like the queen of the castle with an elegant scarf tied around her head and a paisley housedress.

“Well, hello there Patrick,” she said, cuffing his cheek affectionately. “I hear today is your birthday.”

Patrick flushed. “Yeah, it is.”

“Happy birthday sugar!” Mrs. Miller said wrapping him up in a jasmine, vanilla and chocolate chip cookie hug. She gave him a kiss, leaving a smudge of bronze lipstick on his cheek. She turned to her four other kids, all of them girls and folded her arms across her chest. “Well ladies, aren’t you going to wish Patrick a happy birthday?”

“Happy birthday Patrick!” They chorused together, a quartet of Motown singers. 

Then they all broke into giggles before turning back to their cookies and milk.

“Your snack is on the table boys,” Mrs. Miller said. “Go and get cleaned up then come back and eat. We won’t be having dinner until I hear from your father, one of his nurses called and he had a difficult surgery this afternoon. When you come back, you two can tell me all about your new pen pals.”

Eddie grinned. “Okay ma.”

“What did you tell her about our new pen pals?” Patrick asked as they washed up with Dove soap. 

“Nothing!” Eddie insisted. “Well, not really! I told her that you might have a crush on your pen pal! And that mine was a complete pain in the butt.” 

“I do not have a crush on Teresa!” Patrick said. “She’s like, what, five?”

“She’s nine almost ten,” Eddie reminded him. “Remember, you let me read the letter she sent you?”

“Yeah. . .”

“Well, she’s going to be ten. Besides, it isn’t like you’re ever going to meet her. By this time next year, you won’t even be corresponding with her anymore.”

“You did not tell your mother that I had a crush on my pen pal!”

“I did. . . not,” Eddie answered. “But I had you there for a minute didn’t I, Boy Wonder?”

“Hardly,” Patrick replied. “I knew that you were kidding.”

“Right,” Eddie said, drying his hands off. “You better hurry up and finish washing your hands. Ma’s going to start wondering where we are in a few seconds.”

True to his word, his mother peeked her head in the bathroom at that same exact moment.

“Are you talking about me Edward Martin Luther Miller?”

“Of course not ma!” Eddie answered, making a goofy face and throwing his arms around her waist. “We were just talking about Patrick and his undying love for his pen pal!”

“I do not love her!” Patrick exclaimed, flicking Eddie with water. 

“You keep telling yourself that boy!” Eddie replied ducking out of the bathroom as Patrick chased after him.

.

Dinner was a noisy affair with all the Miller kids and Patrick talking over each other about how their day had went. Afterwards, Mrs. Miller served chocolate cake and they all sang happy birthday out of key before everybody in the family presented him with a small gift wrapped in the same wrapping paper. 

When the last of the cake had been eaten and the table had been cleared, Dr. Miller and Eddie drove Patrick home with the windows wide open and a Motown song playing on the radio. He thanked them for the day profusely before getting out of the car and making the walk up to the little trailer he lived in.

Fred was waiting for him on the stoop, reading a worn-out paperback novel. He looked up and smiled when he saw Patrick. “Your daddy asked Ethel and me if you could spend the night with us tonight. He had some out of town business to attend to.”

“Sure,” Patrick answered, all the good feelings from the day seeped out of him. Of course his dad would forget his birthday; it had been the same story for the past four years. His shoulders drooped slightly. 

Fred got up and clapped him on the back, sensing his mood. “Come on, I know it’s your birthday. I think we can scrounge up some ice cream and cake.”

Patrick’s deflated spirits lifted slightly and Teresa’s words from earlier came back. True, these people weren’t his blood family. But Ethel, Fred and the Millers were the ones there for him on birthdays, holidays, and when he was sick. It was better than not having anyone at all. 

He would accept it cheerfully.   
.

Chicago

Dear Patrick,

My favorite holiday is Christmas. I can’t pick one reason I love Christmas because there are a dozen reasons why. The lights, the music, the gingerbread men, the sugar cookies, decorating the tree while White Christmas plays on channel 4. The presents. Every year at church, we do a living Nativity for the whole month of December. My Sunday school teacher said I could be Mary one day. For now I am an angel or a shepherd boy, if they need one. 

But you probably already knew I liked Christmas, didn’t you? What’s your favorite holiday?

My birthday is in November. In one month, I’ll be ten-years-old. I can hardly believe I am going to be in double-digits. I’m excited though; double-digits are so much more promising than the years between one and nine. And ten puts me so much closer to you in age too. When is your birthday?

I can hardly believe we both have Irish roots. It’s really a small world, isn’t it?

Eddie sounds funny. I’m glad you have a friend like him. Is he by any chance Stella’s pen pal? I don’t think she likes her pen pal very much, whoever he is. I still haven’t told her about you though. I know if I do, she will insist that we trade because she’ll think I have something better than her. It isn’t that I would mind Eddie as a pen pal if he is the one she is writing, it’s just I’ve spent the last two years giving her everything she wants. And I just want one thing to be completely mine for a while. . . I guess that makes me selfish though. 

Are you planning anything for Halloween? Or is it too early to talk about that? Mom says I have a habit of rushing time and that I shouldn’t do that because one day I am going to wish I hadn’t. But my mom makes my costume, so it isn’t like I’m rushing time with that. She just wants to have enough time to have my costume finished.

I need to wrap it up; we have a spelling test in five minutes. 

I am looking forward to your next letter.

Sincerely,   
Teresa

Stella poked Teresa in the back and then passed her a note when she had her attention.

Teresa opened the piece of paper and looked at her friend’s note scrawled out in pink crayon.

Tell me who your pen pal is!

Teresa shook her head, her braids whipping her cheeks as she refused Stella’s request. She crumpled the note up in a ball and dropped it next to her spelling book, not even bothering to reply. This was one secret she would stubbornly refuse to share. She didn’t care how angry Stella got with her. 

After school was over for the day, Teresa gathered up her things and rushed to the bus. She purposely picked a seat that already had somebody sitting in it. She couldn’t take Stella’s nagging.

Her seat neighbor, Rose Perkins, looked up from the book she was reading and pushed her thick glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Oh, hey Teresa. You’re not sitting with Stella today?”

Teresa shook her head. “Nope.”

“Why not? Aren’t you two like best friends?” Rose asked. 

“Sure,” Teresa answered. “I just don’t want to sit with her today. She’s kind of annoying me.”

“Okay,” Rose said, turning her attention back to her book. “Just don’t talk to me. I’m trying to finish my book before it’s due back at the library tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Teresa agreed.

Stella stopped as she got on the bus and folded her arms across her chest. “Teresa,” she said commandingly. “There are a couple of seats back there; you better come with me before somebody else takes them.”

“I’m not sitting with you today,” Teresa told her calmly. 

Stella’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“Because you won’t leave me alone about something I’ve told you a gazillion times that I don’t want to talk about.”

“You’re just being mean!” Stella retorted. “You never tell me anything!”

Teresa flushed. “That’s not true!”

Rose glared at the both of them and slammed her book shut as she grabbed her backpack. “Excuse me.” she said, getting up and squeezing past Teresa and Stella. 

Stella sat down and pushed Teresa over. “Tell me!” She demanded.

“No!” Teresa replied, making a move to get up and follow Rose to the back of the bus. 

Stella yanked her down again. “Why not!?”

“Because!” Teresa answered. 

“Because why!?” 

Teresa sighed. “Don’t you know how to take no for an answer?”

“NO!” Stella shouted. “Now tell me who your pen pal is!” 

“Never!” Teresa shouted back, her face getting red and heartbeat accelerating. “Never, never, NEVER! Now leave me alone!” 

Stella stood up. “Fine! But mark my words Teresa Lisbon, I will find out who your pen pal is! Just you wait and see!”

Teresa was about to tell her that she wouldn’t let her get the chance when their bus driver removed her from the situation and made her sit up in the front of the school bus. 

.

“I don’t understand why you're friends with her,” Siobhan said as she stroked her back. “She doesn’t seem like a very nice girl.”

“Sh-she isn’t!” Teresa replied, trying to get control over her tears. “I know maybe I shou-should have told her about P-p-p-atrick, but I know she’ll want him to be her pen pal if I do!” 

“Shhhh,” Siobhan soothed, taking hold of her shoulders and looking at her. “Even if she did, do you think Patrick would agree and write her back?”

Teresa shrugged and burst into tears again. “I don’t know! Stella always gets everything she wants, so maybe!”

“I’ve read his letters to you,” Siobhan said. “Stella does not seem like the type of girl that he’d be friends with.”

“Everybody wants to be friends with Stella,” Teresa answered stubbornly. 

“Only because they don’t know her,” Siobhan replied. “And I’m pretty sure your friend Patrick would read one line from her and know she wasn’t the kind of person he’d want to spend his time on.”

“But why does she want everything I have?” Teresa asked. “Everything she has is a million times better than mine!”

Siobhan paused and thought about it for a minute, and then she pulled Teresa into her lap and held her close. “Because what you’re lacking for in possessions, you have in family. She might have a big house and everything in the world she wants. But she isn’t going home to her mother and her father today. They won’t give her hugs and kisses or ask about her day and her pen pal. They won’t have dinner together either. She’ll probably eat by herself and then her nanny will make sure she gets bathed before she puts her to bed. She might have everything but everything doesn’t buy love.”

Teresa sighed. “Should have I told her about Patrick then?”

“I don’t know. I understand why you didn’t,” Siobhan answered. “But you need to have a little patience. Stella probably doesn’t know how to take no for an answer.”

Teresa hugged her mom. “I love you.”

“I know,” Siobhan said, kissing the tip of her nose. “I love you too. Now go and get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“Okay,” Teresa replied, jumping down and going to the bathroom. 

.

Florida 

Dear Teresa,

I just had a birthday. Eddie and his family had me over for my favorite meal and cake, then they all gave me presents. Afterwards, I went over to Ethel and Fred’s trailer where I had more cake and ice cream, and they gave me a new surfboard. 

I knew your favorite holiday was Christmas. It had to be. I don’t really have a favorite holiday; my father doesn’t make a big deal out of them. I guess Christmas would be my favorite if I had a real chance to celebrate them though. Isn’t that the classic answer for any kid though? Halloween and Christmas, the two days where we get candy and in the case of Christmas, candy AND presents. 

I haven’t really thought about what I was going to do for Halloween. I didn’t think I was going to do anything but Eddie wants to because next year we’ll be in high school and too old to trick-or-treat. He wants to go out with a bang. Knowing him, we’ll probably goes as something Star Wars related.

Star Wars and Indiana Jones are his favorite movies. Personally, I think movies are a waste of time. But I do like the classics. Cary Grant is my idol, if I could be anybody when I grow up; I think it would be Cary Grant. 

I was wondering. . . if maybe you could send me a picture of yourself. I want to know who I’m writing to. If you do, I’ll send you one of myself.

I think Eddie is writing Stella. He is constantly complaining what a pain in the neck his pen pal is. Except he won’t tell me anything about her or her name. It’s like he’s embarrassed by her or something. 

Anyways, I’m looking forward to hearing from you. To seeing what you look like if you’re going to send me your picture. 

Sincerely,  
Patrick

“We’re going as Lando Calrissian and Han Solo,” Eddie announced as he looked over Patrick’s shoulder. “Add that as a PS.”

“I’m sure she doesn’t even know who Han and Lando are,” Patrick answered, adding the post-script anyways.

“I’m sure she does!” Eddie replied. “She’s cool; anybody who’s cool knows who they are!”

“Is Stella your pen pal?” Patrick asked bluntly.

“What do you think?” Eddie said. 

“I think she might be.”

“She is,” Eddie confirmed. “Have I told you what a pain in the neck she is? All she does is complain about how she doesn’t want a black pen pal and how Teresa never tells her about her pen pal, even though she’s asked a million times. It isn’t any skin off my nose, of course. I think she’s a poor little rich girl and she’s only nine, so I ignore the comments about the color of my skin. But she’s ignorant and so annoying. I don’t even know how Teresa puts up with her.”

Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know. Why do you put up with her?”

“Because ignorance needs to be retrained bro, besides she’s too young to be saying all the things she is. Her parents ought to be ashamed of themselves.”

“Get off your soap box!” Patrick answered good-naturedly. 

“Edward! Patrick!” Miss Perkins chided from the front of the classroom.

“Sorry!” Eddie replied, grinning at Patrick. “So sorry Miss Perkins! It won’t happen again!”

Miss Perkins smiled. “You say that every single time Edward.”

“I’m being serious this time! Eddie promised, taking his and Patrick’s envelopes to the front of the room. “I promise.”

“You better be serious because the next time, I’m just going to have to keep you and Patrick after class.”

.

Chicago

Teresa looked out the window at the leaves changing color, a stark contrast to the gray, rainy day. Earlier in the week, she had caught a bad cold so she hadn’t been able to attend school for a few days. She sighed, today was the day their letters usually came in and she was going to miss her reply from Patrick because of a pesky sore throat and stuffed up nose. She sighed and tried to chase away her blue feelings, but it was impossible.

Siobhan came into the living room to check on her and smiled. “Feeling any better?”

“I missed my letter from Patrick today,” Teresa answered.

“I was talking about your throat,” Siobhan said.

Teresa swallowed and then shrugged. “It doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday.”

Siobhan nodded. “That’s good. I have some water boiling in the kitchen, how about a nice cup of hot chocolate?”

“Sure,” Teresa said, looking down at the Nancy Drew book in her lap. 

There was a knock on the door and Siobhan turned towards it. “I’ll just get that and then I’ll make your hot chocolate.” 

“Hi Mrs. Lisbon,” a voice Teresa knew really well came through the door. “I brought some of Teresa’s homework assignment and her letter from Patrick.”

Teresa’s heart stopped when she heard Stella use Patrick’s name. She knew she hadn’t told Stella his name. It was one of her best kept secrets. Stella must have. . . but no, she couldn’t have. She wouldn’t be that rude. 

“Come in,” Siobhan said. “I was just going to make some hot chocolate, would you like some?”

“I better not; I just came to drop her stuff off.”

“She’s in the living room, you can go on in and see her,” Siobhan replied.

Teresa hurriedly opened her book and lifted it in front of her face, making believe she hadn’t overheard the conversation between her mother and Stella. 

“Hey Reese,” Stella sang, her long blonde hair flowing behind her. “You look better than I thought you would. Are you sure you just aren’t pretending to be sick?”

“Yes,” Teresa answered. “I had the sore throat to prove it.”

Stella giggled and then tossed an envelope on her lap. “Here you go. Your letter, Mr. Andrews said I could bring it to you.”

“It’s open,” Teresa stated.

Stella giggled again, a fake, high-pitched one. “Oh Reese, you don’t actually think that I opened it and read it, do you?”

“Yes, I do!” Teresa answered, feeling her face flush. 

“Fine! I opened it! Are you happy!?” Stella snapped, her own face turning pink. “You should have just told me who he was in the first place!”

“Girls!” Siobhan said, stepping into the living room. “What is going on in here?” 

“Stella read my letter!” Teresa tattled. 

“Stella!” Siobhan looked shocked. “Is that true!?”

“Teresa writes bad things about me to her pen pal,” Stella answered.

“Mom, you know that isn’t true!” Teresa interjected.

“Then why does it say I’m a pain in the neck!?” Stella demanded.

“I don’t know!” Teresa replied hotly. “Maybe if I had a chance to read it before you opened somebody else’s mail!”

Stella tightened the scarf hanging around her neck. “Oh whatever! I just came over here to give you the letter and to tell you to find a new best friend. I don’t want anything to do with you!”

She stormed out, slamming the door as hard as she could behind her. Teresa ripped the letter open right away and scanned it, her heart started to beat faster.

“Mom, mom it wasn’t me!” She insisted, thrusting the letter at her. “It was probably her pen pal; it was probably Patrick’s best friend! I promise, I wouldn’t say anything like that about her! At least not on purpose or behind her back!” 

Siobhan sat next to her daughter and took the letter, reading it quietly to herself. After a few minutes, she looked up and smiled. “Well, at least you don’t have to worry about her trying to steal your pen pal away from you anymore. And I think we need to get one of our recent pictures out. Patrick wants to know what you look like.”

“But mom. . . aren’t you going to say anything about what she accused me of?” Teresa asked before a violent sneeze shook her little body.

“No,” Siobhan answered. “Stella overreacted a little. You are going to concentrate on getting better and then you are going to talk to her by yourself. You’re my big girl Reese, and big girls know what to do all by themselves. I trust you to fix this. And even if it is the end of your relationship with Stella, don’t you think you’re better off without her?”

“I guess,” Teresa replied in a small voice.

“Good girl,” Siobhan said, kissing her on the forehead. “Now, I’m going to get your hot chocolate and you can start your reply.”

“Okay,” Teresa said, reaching for the notepad on the floor and a pencil.

.

Dear Patrick,

I am sorry that Eddie thinks Stella is a pain in the neck. Please don’t write me about what he thinks anymore. She read my letter without permission because I have a cold. She found out what he said about her. She’s really mad and she thinks that I said those things about her. From today, I think we should keep these letters about us and only us. She’s so mad at me; I don’t think we’re going to be friends anymore. That is all I am saying on that subject though.

Enclosed is the picture you asked for. It’s the best one I had. . . I hope you will send me one in return, because I would like to know who I am writing to too. 

The reason I am writing to you later than usual is because I was sick last week and I missed the letters. I am sorry about that, if it helps it felt like I had pins and needles in my throat. I honestly wanted to die. But I pulled through it and lived to tell everyone at school about it. 

Besides, being sick wasn’t all bad. Mom stayed home with me and we watched talk shows while we drank coffee and ate ice cream. Daddy read to me when he got home and before I went to sleep. 

He’s a good reader, he can do all the voices. . . including the girls. I could listen to him read for hours. 

I’m back in school now and I’m almost all better, I just need a tissue every now and then. 

I hope you are well. 

And happy belated birthday!

I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,  
Teresa 

.


	3. Chapter 3

.  
Chapter 3 

Florida 

“She’s cute,” Eddie said, peering over Patrick’s shoulder at the picture of Teresa. “I bet she’d be swell to have on your baseball team.”

“You and your baseball,” Patrick answered, taking in Teresa’s green eyes and dark braids, there was a Boston Red Sox hat sitting askew on the top of her head and she was wearing a miniature Chicago Cubs jersey with denim shorts and Red converse high tops, she was eating an ice cream cone and laughing. She was so thin, he wanted to wrap her up and take care of her.

“She looks like she could throw a mean pitch,” Eddie interjected. “Don’t you think?”

Patrick shrugged. 

“Wow, you're speechless! I’ve never seen you at a loss for words,” Eddie said. “I bet you’re wishing you guys lived in the same neighborhood.”

Patrick shoved the picture in his folder and glared at him. “Hardly. And even if we did live in the same neighborhood, she’d be like a kid sister! She’s three years younger than me!”

“Hardly! She’ll be ten in November,” Eddie reminded him, waving the letter in his face.

“We’re too young to get together,” Patrick answered, snatching the letter back. “You have too many sisters.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean anyways?”

“You have way too many romantic notions in your head.”

“Not true! I’m all boy, my grandmother said so!”

Patrick burst into laughter and earned a look from Miss Perkins. He cleared his throat and smiled charmingly at his teacher before turning back to finish working on his reply to Teresa. 

Dear Teresa, 

I am sorry that you were sick, I hate sore throats. Sometimes I think I would rather have the stomach flu than a sore throat. Because the stomach bug lasts about twenty-four hours when a sore throat can go on for days and days before you feel good again. I hope you don’t need tissues anymore.

Thank you for the picture, I like knowing what you look like. I’ll send you one of myself as soon as I possibly can. I don’t have any available to me right now.

I am sorry Stella is giving you trouble. We don’t have to talk about her anymore, we can talk about little league baseball and what books we’re reading, or whatever it is you want to talk about in these letters. I’ll never bring Stella up again. I promise, that was my last time doing it.

Looking forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,  
Patrick

.

Chicago

Teresa reached up and scratched her nose while she tried to concentrate on praying her rosary beads, but her mind was on Patrick and the letter she had gotten from him on Thursday. He hadn’t sent her a picture in return for her’s because he didn’t have any available to him. She thought it was strange that even though his father wasn’t the best father in the world, he didn’t have pictures of his own son.

“Teresa!” Siobhan hissed. “Stop fidgeting!”

“Sorry mom!” Teresa whispered back, completely contrite until her thoughts started drifting and she started to fidget again.

“Teresa!” Siobhan said, looking at her.

“Sorry!” Teresa repeated, closing her eyes and squeezing her beads tightly. Her carefully memorized prayers changed into clumsy ones for Patrick.

.

“You seemed to be having trouble paying attention in church this morning,” Siobhan commented as she put water on for pasta. 

“I know,” Teresa said sheepishly as she unbuttoned her cardigan and draped it over a chair.

“Going to mass is important,” Siobhan reminded her. 

“I know,” Teresa answered.

“Do you want to tell me where your mind was?”

Teresa was embarrassed to admit it but she did because she knew her mother wouldn’t appreciate it if she lied. “I was thinking about the letter I got from Patrick on Thursday.”

“Oh? And what did he say that captured your intense attention?”

Teresa blushed. “He didn’t have a picture of himself to send to me in return for my picture. Isn’t that weird? Why wouldn’t his father take pictures of him?”

Siobhan shrugged and got some hamburger from the fridge to make meatballs. “Sometimes parents don’t know how to be parents,” she answered. “Maybe Patrick’s father just doesn’t know how to be a father. You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“I’m going to be a good mother!” Teresa replied hotly. 

“I don’t doubt it,” Siobhan said. “But you’ll understand why some people are good parents and why others aren’t. Now be a good girl and go get some sauce in the pantry. And for pity’s sake, try not to let your mind stray during church next week!”

“Okay,” Teresa answered, smiling at her mother.

.

Dear Patrick, 

My cold is completely gone now; I don’t even need tissues anymore. I do think having the stomach bug is equally as bad as a sore throat, even if it does only last for 24 hours. Those 24 hours can be completely nasty.

I will wait patiently for your picture; there isn’t any hurry for it. Although, I would like to see what you look like before the school year ends and we lose contact. 

Stella and I still haven’t made up, but I think I am better off without her. And that is the last thing I will say about her.

I am reading another Nancy Drew story, the one where she meets Ned Nickerson. You probably don’t know it though. I love Nancy Drew; she is one of my idols. One day I am going to become a detective. Not because of Nancy Drew though, because the people in my family always go into police work and I am keeping up the family tradition. Before you tell me to follow my own dream that is exactly what I am doing. Nobody in the family has been a detective since my great-grandfather Lisbon. 

He had the best stories when he was alive, all about the murderers he would track down and the gorgeous women who would come in his office looking for a missing person. He made putting away bad guys sound like the most fun in the whole entire world. So, you can call me Nancy Drew if you want. And I don’t even want to hear about how Nancy Drew doesn’t even carry a gun! 

Looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Sincerely,  
Teresa

P.S

I am Chicago Cubs fan all the way, but I had a Red Sox hat on in the picture I sent you because they are another underdog team and my uncle loves rooting for the underdog teams. The last time they won a World Series was in 1918, of course that is barely anything compared to the Cubs last win in 1908 but still. . . 1918 is a long time not to win especially when they were literally baseball royalty at one point. I guess you aren’t a big fan of sports though, so I’ll end there for now.   
.

Florida

“Here’s the picture you asked for from the family picnic this summer,” Eddie said, thrusting it at Patrick. “Mom got it developed just in time for today’s letter writing assignment.”

“Thanks!” Patrick answered enthusiastically as he looked at it. It was a family picture of him and the Millers, but she could tell who he was easily. With his white blonde hair and tan skin, he stuck out like a sore thumb. 

“So, are you coming to my house after school?” Eddie asked as he slid into his desk and craned his neck to look at him.

“What’s the occasion this time?” 

“Nothing, except that it’s Friday. You know what that means!”

“Homemade mac & cheese and a trip to the movies,” Patrick finished for his friend, smiling at the thought.

“Exactly!” Eddie replied. “So, are you going to come or not?” 

“Of course!” Patrick answered. “Thanks for inviting me!”

“Of course!” Eddie repeated, smiling at him.

When they got to Eddie’s house at the end of the school day, Ray Charles was pouring out of the screen door and windows. 

“Georgia on My Mind means one thing, Dad’s home early!” Eddie told Patrick as he raced up the walkway. “He’s the only one who puts Ray Charles on voluntarily, mom prefers classical music.”

“I know!” Patrick replied as he caught up with Eddie. 

The door flew open and LeRoy Miller came out. “Edward, Patrick! There you are! How about we swing by the beach for quick surf before dinner? Your mother said there’s plenty of time to do it.”

“Do we want to go surfing!?” Eddie repeated, laughing. “Dad, you know Patrick here lives to surf! You don’t even have to ask.”

“I thought that was your surfboard and swimming trunks I saw when I left for work this morning,” Mr. Miller told Patrick.

“The waves were pretty good this morning,” Patrick answered. “Eddie and I couldn’t resist going surfing before school started.”

Mr. Miller looked at Eddie. “Next time the two of you decide to go surfing in the morning, come and get me. Okay? It’s dangerous for two little boys to be out on the waves all by themselves.”

Eddie made a face. “Dad, we’re hardly two little boys!”

Mr. Miller laughed. “Only little boys say stuff like that. Now go on, go and get changed and make sure you put sunblock on while you’re at it. Hurry!”

They did as they were told even though Eddie mumbled a little bit about having to put sunblock on even though it wasn’t that sunny outside. A few minutes later, they rolled out of the driveway in Mr. Miller’s door less jeep that he only reserved for going on surfing trips and to the drive-in theater.

They surfed for an hour and then Mr. Miller made them come out and get dried off, because dinner was probably ready and he didn’t want to make Mrs. Miller keep it warm for them. 

Dinner was waiting for them when they got home; they ate it while they were still dressed in their swim shorts. Afterwards, they left the dishes in the sink and went to the drive-in theater where they ate salty movie theater popcorn and peanut M&Ms while they watched a double-feature of Gidget and Gidget Goes Hawaiian. 

They drove home when it was late, too late to take Patrick back to his own home. He spent a sleepless night in a sleeping bag outside, staring at the stars and wondering what it would be like to have a family who went to drive-in theaters on Friday nights and a father who worried about him when he snuck out to go surfing in the wee small hours of the morning or when he didn’t come home at night. The tidal wave of longing that overtook him was so strong, it stole his breath away.

He looked over at Eddie, sleeping peacefully in a sleeping bag next to his, and tried not to be envious of his friend. But he had things he didn’t; it was easy to let the feelings creep in. He fought hard not to let it overtake him.

Dear Nancy Drew,

Unlike you and Eddie, I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I guess I still have time to figure it out; it isn’t like somebody is going to come to me tomorrow and demand I make a career choice. It will be years before I even have a family to support. I do know I do not want to be the Boy Wonder for the rest of my life; I do not want to lie and give people false hope. Up until now, being a showman was my biggest desire. 

I think you’d make a really good detective one day. And Eddie is going to be a very good pastor. I know he has already decided to do this even though he doesn’t.

Tonight is mac & cheese night at his house, he invited me to go and have dinner with him and his family. Later on, we’ll go and catch the double-feature at the drive-in. They’re showing two of the Gidget movies.

This morning, Eddie and I snuck out before sunrise to go surfing. The waves were terrific this morning. Usually you have to wait forever to catch a good one. One day, I want to live on a beach in California or Hawaii where the surfing is always good. One day, I want to teach you how to surf. 

You’ll love it, I promise.

Your great-grandfather sounds like he was really interesting. You were lucky to get to know him.

I’m glad you’re feeling better.

And I don’t like sports, but I do like history. And your PS was exactly that, a little history lesson about sports teams. Thank you.

I am sorry you and Stella haven’t made up yet. I hope you find a new friend soon. You deserve somebody who’s just as amazing as you are.

Sincerely,  
Patrick

.

Chicago

Teresa tapped her pencil against her desk as she reread her latest letter from Patrick. He reminded her of the lost little boy she had seen at the park during summer vacation. So sad and so alone. 

She sighed and pulled her piece of notebook paper closer, she doodled flowers in the margin, trying to figure out how to reply to him. He had bigger feelings than she could fathom, she didn’t know how to deal with them and yet, she didn’t want to leave him to deal with them all by himself. 

She wished she could discuss it with her mother, her mother always knew the right thing to say. She skimmed the letter one more time and then she began to write.

.  
Teresa sat by herself on the bus ride home, she read the copy of the Little Prince she had checked out from the library that day. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice when the girl fresh off the plane from the Philippines sat down next to her. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” 

Teresa looked up quickly, startled out of her engrossed reading and then nodded. “No, of course not!” she tucked her book into her backpack and stuck out her hand. “Hi, I’m Teresa Lisbon. You’re Leah, right?”

“Yes,” Leah answered. “Nice to meet you Teresa.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Teresa replied, smiling at her. 

Dear Patrick,

Well, what do you like to do best besides being a showman? I bet you’d make a good teacher one day. Daddy says the world always needs good teachers. Maybe you could teach history since you love it so much. Or maybe you could work at a resort in Hawaii and teach surfing to the kids who come for vacation. Whatever you decide to do, I’m sure you’ll be amazing at it. 

Sometimes I am sad thinking about you without a real family and then I realize you have Eddie and his family. You know that, though. I’m glad you have them. And mac & cheese Friday nights and drive-in movies. I hope you have them forever.

Maybe one day you will get to teach me to surf. I hope you will anyways.

Stella and I haven’t made up yet, but it’s okay. I think I am better off without her anyways. I am sure there is somebody out there to be friends with. And even if there isn’t, I have you. And that counts for something to me. 

Until next time!

Sincerely,  
Teresa (aka Nancy Drew)

TBC. . .  
.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry for the delay. Real life totally got in the way and before I knew it, it had been over two weeks since I updated. I hope you’re still reading this and you’ll forgive the long absence. I am still here, I am still writing this story. I hope to go back to updating once a week (on Fridays) because things are finally slowing down. In the meantime, I hope you’ll leave a review and tell me what you thought of this chapter!
> 
> Until Next Time!


	5. Chapter 4

Florida

Dear Nancy Drew,

I never thought about being a teacher before. I guess I could do something like that even though almost every other kid in the world says that they want to be a teacher when they grow up. Teaching surfing would be a lot of fun. I already taught Scout how to surf this past summer. She’s a natural at it, but then she should be because everybody in her family surfs, even Mrs. Miller. 

Scout is Eddie’s younger sister. Mr. and Mrs. Miller named her after the main character in To Kill A Mockingbird. At least that’s what Eddie told me. 

We had an enjoyable night on Friday. I wound up sleeping over their house after the movie because it was too late to go home. They’re the best substitute family anybody could ask for; I hope I have them forever too. 

I’m happy you have me too; I hope that I can be a good friend to you. I hope I can be worthy of your friendship. You really do deserve a good friend.

We have a history test today. My best subject. I am almost certain I’ll get an A, but I don’t want to be too cocky about it. 

I’ll write you soon.

Sincerely,  
Patrick

Patrick folded his letter into fours and put it in his envelope, Eddie had stopped writing Stella completely, so he was doodling on his notebook paper and chewing on his eraser in between drawing pictures of surfboards and stick figures. He looked at him and grinned goofily, he smiled back and then licked the envelope before sealing it shut and delivering it to the front of the room. 

.

Later that day, Patrick was at home reading a Hardy Boys book and listening to one of his classical music albums when his father, Alex came into the living room. 

“Patrick, I have a job for you,” he said, rubbing his hands together and looking at him like he was the goose that laid the golden egg.

Patrick frowned and looked up from his book. “Another job?”

“Come on Patrick, you know I haven’t had you do any jobs since you started school in August. But we need the money and this is a good paycheck.”

Patrick released a long sigh. “I have homework.”

“I’ll have you home long before nine,” Alex promised. “Come on, if you help me out, we can even go out to eat where you’d like. You know we haven’t eaten out in a long time and those new sandals you’ve been nagging me about, we can get those tonight as well.”

Patrick looked down at his sandals; they were falling apart on his feet. But every single time he as much as mentioned it to his father, he quickly shut him down using the excuse there wasn’t enough money for an extra expense like footwear. 

He bookmarked his place and nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with you,” he said. “But I get to hold on to the money until we get the new sandals and have dinner.”

There was no way he was going to let his father keep it because it would quickly disappear at the bar and on prostitutes. 

“But Patrick, I’m your father!” Alex protested. “Don’t you trust me at all?”

Patrick didn’t answer. “I’ll go and change,” he said instead.

A few minutes later, he came back with his hair combed and in a white button-down dress shirt with a striped blue tie; he ignored his father and went to the little closet to get his suit coat. It was his typical look for readings; it was his father way of having him fit in with a circle of people that usually didn’t want anything to do with him.

“Well?” He asked. “Are you ready to go?”

“Aren’t you forgetting your shoes?” Alex asked looking pointedly at his son’s feet.

“I told you, I grew out of them in August.”

“Wear them anyways,” Alex replied. “You can’t just go to a client’s house in sandals. They have standards, we can’t disappoint them.”

Patrick almost asked him why he wasn’t the one going then, but he bit back his reply and went to get dress socks to go with the shoes that would most likely give him blisters by the end of the night. 

Five minutes later, he was in his father’s smelly old truck and driving down the highway, trying to sit perfectly still so he wouldn’t break out into a sweat or get oil stains on his suit. His father would be so angry with him if he didn’t look like a million bucks in front of this wealthy new client. 

The reading went by in a blur; he held hands with her and told her everything that she wanted to hear. The next thing he knew, he was asking for cash and she was handing a wad of bills over to him. 

He got back into the truck and insisted his father drive him to the mall right away to get his new sandals. He knew if he didn’t, he would never see his new sandals. After he made his purchase, he made his father take him to the food court for dinner. There wasn’t exactly a place he liked to eat there, but he wasn’t going to take any chances and ask his father to take him to where he really wanted to go.

Patrick’s father dropped him off at the trailer by eight and drove off without a word or asking for the rest of the money. 

Patrick shrugged and untucked his shirt as he walked up to the trailer, fingering the remaining money and wondering if he could persuade Ethel to take him to get some groceries after school the next day.

He should have asked her to do it sooner; he had just started his math homework when his father came into the trailer with a woman in tight leather, tacky make up, ripped fishnets and boots up to her chin.

“Where’s the rest of the money Paddy?” He asked, holding his hand out expectantly.

“In the coffee tin under the porch,” Patrick answered. “But dad, you can’t have it! We need food. . .”

“You can’t tell me what I can’t and can do!” Alex replied. “Now go and get the money like a good boy, then go to Ethel and Fred’s for the rest of the night. I need the trailer to myself.”

“Dad. . .”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You can bring your homework. It’s not like you need it though, you’re not going to amount to much outside of your readings.”

Patrick glanced at his lady friend, expecting her to laugh like all the other women he dragged home did when his father belittled him, but she looked down at the toes of her pointy boots and tried to run her fingers through her hair sprayed and teased locks. 

“Go now Patrick!” Alex ordered, stomping his foot on the floor to show that he meant business. 

Patrick sighed and gathered up his school books. “Okay, fine. I’ll just get my clothes for tomorrow and your money, and then I’ll go.”

Alex smiled. “That’s my boy!”

Patrick felt a little hollow. He didn’t really want to be Alex Jane’s boy. 

.

Chicago

Dear Patrick,

I’ve never read To Kill a Mockingbird before. Mom says I’m too young, I did watch the movie with my grandfather last summer. We were up at the lake and Grandpa took me into town to see a movie. That was the only one showing that afternoon, so we saw it. But my mom doesn’t know. It’s our little secret. 

I hope you passed your test! I hate tests but I’m sure you’re pretty good at them.

Guess what! I made a new friend. Her name is Leah, she just moved here from the Philippines because her father got a really good job with a law firm. Mom says as soon as she meets Leah’s mother and they have coffee, we can have her over for dinner. And maybe a sleepover if they’re really comfortable with us.

I’ve never had a sleepover before, except with my cousins. But that doesn’t count, not really. I mean, Stella wasn’t allowed to have sleepovers because her father was afraid that she’d get kidnapped, and I wasn’t allowed to sleepover her house because my mom was afraid I would decide to play baseball in their front hall and then I’d break a vase or something else that my parents couldn’t afford to replace. 

I think it will be nice to have a friend who I can actually have over. 

I hope you’re doing well. I’m thinking about you and saying prayers for you.

Sincerely,  
Teresa

P.S

I LOVE the Little Prince!

“Do you want to eat lunch with me this afternoon?” Teresa asked Leah, wrapping her scarf around her neck and pulling her dark braids out. “My mom packed extra chocolate chip cookies today.”

Leah smiled. “I would love to eat with you! Thanks for asking Teresa!”

Teresa smiled back and grabbed her plastic lunchbox then took Leah’s hand. “Come on, we can eat outside today. It’s one of the last nice days of fall; we won’t have many more days like this. Winter will be here before we know it.”

They found a spot in the sun and opened their lunchboxes; they ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches while Teresa read the Little Prince aloud to Leah between bites of her sandwich and chocolate chip cookies. It was one of the most contented lunches she had had since school started. And she realized she didn’t miss Stella’s voice constant chatter buzzing in her ear. It was nice to have somebody listen to her for a change, to have a little give and a little take.

Afterwards, they spent the remaining lunch period talking about how Leah felt moving to the United States. Teresa asked Leah if she was afraid and Leah told her that since she had met her, she wasn’t anymore. 

“Good, I’m glad!” Teresa said, taking Leah’s hand and squeezing it tightly. 

.

Florida

Dear Teresa,

I’m fine. . . thank you for asking. I hope you’re doing fine too. 

I’m glad you’re enjoying the Little Prince; it makes me happy to hear that.

And I’m glad you found a new friend at your school. You deserve it.

Sincerely,  
Patrick

He tapped his pencil on the table and swallowed. The truth was he wasn’t fine. But he couldn’t trouble Teresa with his problems. She was too young; he didn’t want her to worry about him. She didn’t deserve to worry at all and if he told her about his own worries, he knew she would. If he told her that his father was making him go to readings and taking most of the money, she wouldn’t understand. 

He sighed and tossed the pencil down, ignoring Eddie’s look in his direction. He hadn’t even told Eddie what was going on, even though his friend was starting to guess what was going on because he had turned down several invitations for dinner.

He couldn’t tell Eddie either though, because Eddie would tell his parents and his parents would call a meeting with his father. It would only cause problems. Problems that Patrick just didn’t want to face. Problems he couldn’t face.

And really, he was fine with going to stay with Ethel and Fred’s on the nights his father had a little too much to drink or wanted to “entertain” a woman. 

“Patrick?” Miss Perkins said, coming up to him. “Are you finished writing your letter?”

“Um, yes,” Patrick answered, handing the envelope over to his teacher.

“Edward?” Miss Perkins asked.

Eddie held his hands up. “You know I stopped writing her a month ago.”

“Oh yes,” Miss Perkins answered. “Well, I heard from their teacher. There’s a new student there, her name is Leah. I want you to spend the rest of the school year writing to her. No arguments! And Patrick, I want to talk to you after school is over today.”

Patrick’s stomach dropped and he swallowed hard as Eddie watched him expectantly. Then he nodded. “Yes Miss Perkins.”

“What did you do?” Eddie asked as they walked to the lunchroom together. 

“I didn’t do anything!” Patrick answered. “At least not that I know of. . . maybe I got a bad grade on a test or something.”

“You? Bad grade?” Eddie said. “I doubt it! You haven’t looked so hot lately, is everything okay? Have you been feeling alright?”

“I’ve been feeling fine!” Patrick replied. 

“You haven’t come around in a while. My parents are starting to wonder what’s going on,” Eddie told him. 

“Tell them to stop worrying,” Patrick said.

“Tell them yourself,” Eddie answered. “Come over on Friday night and have mac & cheese with us, come to the drive-in and have a good time. You can worry about school on Sunday.”

“You think I’m worried about school?”

“No,” Eddie admitted. “But I know you aren’t going to tell me what’s really going on. Even though I know.”

“You do?” Patrick asked. “Then tell me, tell me what you think is going on.”

Eddie looked around and then lowered his voice. “Your father is having you see clients again. Like he did this past summer.”

“We need the money.”

“He needs to get a job,” Eddie said.

“You’ve been listening to your parents again,” Patrick retorted.

“So what if I have been?” Eddie answered. “They’re right. You don’t need to be earning money, that’s your father’s job. You're still a kid. Besides, we both know your father doesn’t let you keep any of the money you earn.”

“He let me buy new sandals.”

“And that’s about it.”

Patrick flushed, feeling guilty about sharing with Eddie what his father really did with the money.

“Listen, man, you know I’m on your side!” Eddie said. “I’m just worried about you. And I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Patrick said. “I’ll try and come over this weekend. But I’m not making any promises.”

“That’s fine, I’ll tell my mom that you’re thinking about coming,” Eddie answered, smiling at him.

“Thanks,” Patrick replied, giving him half-a-smile. 

.

The day passed by too quickly and before he knew what was happening, Patrick was standing in front of Miss Perkins. She smiled at him and told him to sit down, trying to make him feel comfortable with root beer barrels 

“Did I do something wrong?” Patrick asked bluntly after he had finished his first piece of candy.

“Not at all,” Miss Perkins assured him. “I just wanted to see if you were doing alright. You’ve seemed distant and unengaged during class. I’m worried about you Patrick. Is everything okay at home?”

“You’re only asking because you’re supposed to,” Patrick answered. 

“No, I’m asking because I care about you,” Miss Perkins told him. “If there’s something wrong, I want to try and help you fix it.”

“You can’t help me fix anything Miss Perkins,” Patrick said, shaking his head slightly. ‘

“Are you protecting somebody?” Miss Perkins inquired. “Like your father?”

“I’m not trying to protect anybody!” Patrick denied.

“Okay,” Miss Perkins answered, smiling at him. “If you decide you want to talk to me, I’ll be here for you.”

Like he was going to tell her anything, she’d report her father directly to child services and they’d probably take him away from his home. He wouldn’t leave his friends or his school; they’d have to take him fighting.

“Okay,” he said.

“And Patrick, maybe you should rewrite this,” Miss Perkins said, taking his letter to Teresa out from the larger envelope she sent the class letters to. “I know how much you enjoy writing to each other, I would hate for her to miss out on a real letter from you.”

“Right,” Patrick answered, pocketing the letter. “I’ll bring you my new letter first thing in the morning.”

Miss Perkins smiled at him again. “Okay. You have a good night dear.”

“You too,” Patrick replied, smiling too and pocketing the letter along with the handful of root beer barrels she had given to him. “See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

.

Dear Teresa,

I am doing fine. Thank you for asking and thank you for praying for me. And yes, I passed my test. I got the best score out of the whole entire class, aside from Eddie of course. 

I am glad you are enjoying the Little Prince and that you’ve made a new friend. I hope the two of you can have a sleepover soon and that you are both really good to each other, the way friends are supposed to be good to each other.

I’ve been keeping pretty busy and spending a lot of time with Ethel and Fred. Don’t worry though, I prefer it that way. 

I might go to Eddie’s this weekend. You know to have mac & cheese and see a movie at the drive-in. I wish you could be here with us. I think it would be a lot of fun to hang out in a group. Even if you are a kid.

Oh! Did you hear? Eddie has to write Leah for the rest of the school year. I think that it will be a lot better for him this time around.

Thinking of you.

Sincerely,  
Patrick

TBC. . .

.


	6. Chapter 6

.  
Chicago

Dear Patrick,

Can you believe that it’s almost Christmas? Our whole street looks like a Christmas card and yesterday, we put up our tree while we ate vanilla ice cream with crushed candy canes and hot chocolate. Mom played all of her Christmas records and afterwards, they had us write out our Christmas lists. Tonight, Leah is coming over and we’re going to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas. This coming Sunday is the Christmas pageant at church, I’m still an angel. This year, I actually get to sing a song. Angels We Have Heard On High.

And then by Friday, we’re going to have Christmas break. Everyone is so excited about it; they can barely concentrate on anything else. 

I hope you are doing well and that maybe Candy is planning something wonderful for your Christmas. I’m thinking about you.

Love,  
Teresa

“It’s snowing!” Leah proclaimed. “Do you think we’re going to get to leave school early?”

Teresa looked up from the snowman she was doodling in the margin of Patrick’s letter and shrugged. “Maybe. I wouldn’t count on it though; it’s barely coming down right now.”

Leah sighed and turned back to her half-written letter to Eddie. “Snow, we’re actually going to have a white Christmas!”

“Don’t get too excited, it snows a lot here. You’ll be sick of it by February.”

“I could never be sick of snow! We didn’t have it in the Philippines!”

Teresa smiled and put her pencil down. “I’ll teach you how to make snow angels when we get to my house. Or we could build a snowman; we have plenty of things to play outside in.”

“Okay!” Leah agreed.

Teresa picked up her pencil and tacked on a PS to the end of her letter. 

It’s snowing today. The first snowfall of the season, Leah is excited about it. After school is finished, I am going to teach her how to make snow angels and snowmen. I wish you were here with us, I think we would have a lot of fun together.

.

When they got to the Lisbon home, a Nat King Cole Christmas record was playing on the record player and Siobhan had thick mugs filled to the brim with homemade hot chocolate and whipped cream waiting for them. 

“Thanks mom,” Teresa said, kicking off her red Converse sneakers and rubbing her cold feet. 

“Here you go darling,” Siobhan answered, handing her a thick pair of socks. “I have some for you too Leah, if your feet are cold.” 

“I’m fine,” Leah answered. “Mom’s been making me wear a double pair of socks and boots all week long. She thinks I’ll catch the flu or something if I don’t.”

“Teresa refuses to wear boots, its Converses or nothing. Isn’t it?” Siobhan asked affectionately. 

“Mom!” Teresa said, taking a sip of hot chocolate. 

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” Siobhan answered, turning to Leah. “You love your Converse sneakers. I can barely convince her to wear something else to church.”

“I wear other shoes to church!” Teresa said, rolling her eyes.

“Only because I bribe you.”

Teresa smirked and took another sip of hot chocolate; she licked the whipped cream off the top of her lip and cleared her throat. “So, Leah and I were thinking about playing outside for a little bit. Do you think that would be a good idea?”

“Why don’t you wait for it to accumulate a little bit more?” Siobhan suggested. “I don’t think you could build a snowman with that amount of snow.”

“I know mom,” Teresa said. 

“There might be a snow day tomorrow,” Siobhan said. 

Leah’s face lit up. “Really!? Do you really think we’ll have a snow day, Mrs. Lisbon?” 

“Most likely,” Siobhan answered. “Why don’t you call your mom and see if you can spend the night, just in case?”

“Okay!” Leah agreed enthusiastically, jumping up and going to the telephone. She dialed the number and a few minutes later, she had permission to spend the night as long as she went to bed at a reasonable time in case there wasn’t a snow day and she did all of her homework.

.

Florida

Dear Teresa,

Christmas is in full swing at the trailer park too. Yesterday, I helped Fred string white lights up on the palm trees at the entrance of the trailer park. Today, I am going to Candy’s apartment to help her decorate it for Christmas and tomorrow I’m going to make gingerbread houses with the Millers and then we are going caroling with their church in the evening. 

I was wondering. . . I don’t want to go two weeks without hearing from you. Could I write to you over Christmas break? I’ll send you my address and you can write me first, so it won’t be weird or anything. And I promise I’m not going to show up at your house. I just want to write you during the holidays.

Also, maybe if we have each other’s addresses, we could continue to write each other after this school project ends in the spring. Tell me if you’re interested. 

Sincerely,  
Patrick

“Do you want some eggnog?” Candy asked, as she turned up her air conditioning and then putting in a Dolly Parton Christmas album.

“Sure,” Patrick answered, trying to untangle a set of multi-colored lights. “Hey Candy, could I ask you a question?”

“What is it darling?” Candy asked, taking out a carton of eggnog and sloshing it into a glass. 

“Would you marry my father if he asked?”

Candy looked startled and then shook her head. “I don’t know, I honestly haven’t thought about it. Would you want me to marry him if he asked?”

“I’d like that,” Patrick admitted after a minute. 

“You know your father isn’t very marriage minded, right?” Candy asked, handing him his drink. “I can barely get him to take me to the Chick Fil A for a date. Getting that man to marry me would be like tying a noose around his neck.”

“Do you even want to get married?” Patrick asked.

“Of course I want to get married, and I want to be your stepfather more than anything. But we both know that your father isn’t the marrying kind. ”

Patrick sighed. “I know. Have you met somebody who does want to marry you?”

“I always meet a man who would like to marry me, but I’m faithful to your father. I’m not fooling around on him or anything, but I don’t know if I’m going to stay with him long-term. I want you to know. . .” Candy trailed off and knelt down in front of him, taking his hands in her’s. “I want you to know that whatever happens, I’m always going to be part of your life. I promise I’m always going to be part of your life. Okay?”

Patrick looked into her eyes and saw she was sincere. He nodded and tightened his grip on her’s. “Okay,” he agreed. 

Candy let go of his hands and pulled him in for a hug, enveloping him in cheap perfume and baby powder. He hugged her back, pretending for a second that he was her stepson. After a few minutes, she let him go and wiped her eyes, sniffing a little bit. 

“Come on sugar, let’s decorate the apartment. Okay?”

“Okay,” Patrick agreed, managing to smile back at her.

Candy cleared her throat. “How about we order some pizza to eat while we work? I’m starving.”

“Could we order a Hawaiian pizza?” Patrick asked. 

“Honey, I got a huge tip from one of my wealthy clients today as a Christmas bonus, we can order whatever you’d like!” Candy answered as she picked up the phone dialed the pizza parlor’s number with a long, candy cane striped nail. “If you’d like, we could even run and get Eddie when we go and pick up the pizza!”

Patrick smiled and nodded. “Sounds good to me!”

Candy’s smile brightened and she spoke into the phone. “Billy? It’s Candy, I want to order a Hawaiian pizza. What the heck, we’ll order an extra-large. We’re having a celebration tonight! Okay. I’ll be by to pick it up, see you soon!”

Patrick grinned at her as she hung up the phone. “I better call Eddie and see if we can come by and get him.”

“And then we have to talk about what you’re doing for his and Teresa’s Christmas presents,” Candy said. “You were planning on doing something for them, weren’t you?”

“Well, now that I’m thinking about it. . .” Patrick trailed off and said, “Hello Eddie, its Patrick. Candy and I were wondering if you want to come and help decorate her Christmas tree. Great! See you soon!”

.

Chicago

When Teresa woke up the next morning, she threw the curtains in her bedroom open and gasped in delight. The whole world had been covered in white while they had slept, there was obviously not going to be any school that day. She leapt on Leah and started shaking her vigorously. 

“Leah, wake up! You need to see what happened!” 

“Five more minutes,” Leah muttered, turning on her stomach and burrowing deeper under the covers.

Teresa huffed and shook her friend again. “We’re not going to have school today!”

Leah opened one eye and frowned. “We’re not?”

“It snowed tons last night!” Teresa answered, tugging on her friend’s hand. “Come and see!” 

Leah stretched and then yawned, tucking her dark hair behind her ears. “Okay, okay! I’m coming! Keep your nightgown on.”

“Come on!” Teresa said, dragging her towards the window.

Leah rubbed her eyes and then gasped too. “Oh my gosh! It’s beautiful!” she said, her eyes lighting up and her face breaking out into a huge smile. “Do you think we’d be able to play in it?”

Teresa shrugged. “Sure, we’ll just need to get dressed and eat breakfast first. But after that, we can do whatever we want!”

“So, we can build a snowman then?” 

“Yeah,” Teresa answered. “My mom and brothers will even do it with us, if we ask.”

After a breakfast of waffles and coffee, Siobhan helped them bundle up and they all went outside, they made snow angels and a snowman that looked like Santa Claus, complete with a red Santa hat. 

Then, Siobhan took pictures of them so they could send to Eddie and Patrick, so they could see how they spent their snow day. Afterwards, she made homemade mac & cheese, and they all ate it while they watched cartoons on TV under a fort of homemade quilts and blankets. They drove Leah home after dinner and took a longer route to see the other houses decorated in lights while they listened to Christmas music on the radio.   
Dear Patrick,

I would love to write you over the holidays and after the school year ends! I mean, if that’s what you REALLY want, I would really love to keep in touch especially after school ends. 

Last week, we had a snow day. We made Santa Claus snowmen and snow angels, and afterwards we built a fort out of blankets and ate homemade mac & cheese while we watched TV. There’s more snow in the forecast for this weekend, so we’re definitely in for a white Christmas. But by January first, half of the people I know will be complaining about the snow and the ice. Especially as the snow days start to pile up and the heating bills go through the roof. 

I won’t care though. Winter is my favorite season; Christmas is my favorite time of the year.

I’ll be looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Love,  
Teresa 

P.S

If I don’t hear from you before Christmas, I hope you have a very Merry Christmas! 

.

Florida

“She really is cute,” Eddie said through a mouthful of red gumdrops. “I bet if she were here, you would marry her one day.”

Patrick rolled his eyes and sighed in exasperation. “Eddie!? What is it with you and trying to match people up? Especially when they’re still, I don’t know, kids?”

Eddie shrugged and stole a few green gumdrops from Scout.

“Eddie!” She said, slapping his hand away in annoyance. 

“Edward, those candies are for the gingerbread houses!” Mrs. Miller said. “Stop eating it or you won’t have anything left to decorate with!” 

Eddie smiled sheepishly and dropped the remaining gumdrops on the table. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re the reason we keep having to push up making the gingerbread houses,” Scout informed him primly. “If you hadn’t eaten all the candy and gingerbread last week, we wouldn’t have to do it now.”

“You know you’re probably going to have a mouthful of cavities the next time you go to the dentist,” Patrick informed him.

“Ha! I’ve never had a cavity in my whole life!” Eddie retorted, slathering a good amount of frosting on a graham cracker and slapping it on the top of his gingerbread house. It broke into pieces, causing Scout and Patrick to dissolve into fits of laughter.

Eddie sighed in exasperation and scooped up the mess, dropping it in the garbage bin his mother had set up for them and then licked the frosting off of his fingers. He glared at his friend and sister. “Okay, you two can stop laughing now!”

This caused them to laugh even more. Eddie deepened his glare and then gave up, laughing a little bit himself as he tried to clean up the icing off his house and start all over again. Finally, Patrick took pity on him and stopped laughing, helping him clean the frosting off so he could start to rebuild it. 

Dear Teresa,

This is the first letter I’m writing to you from my home. Christmas is in five days and I am sending your Christmas gift along with this letter, I do not want protests that you didn’t get me anything. Your friendship is enough. 

I am glad you’re going to have a White Christmas. We are going to have a green Christmas with sunny skies and warm temperatures; I think I’ll even get some surfing in. Dad and I are going to Candy’s apartment for Christmas, she insisted since she has an apartment that has already been decorated. She’s going to cook dinner for us. I confess I have been entertaining daydreams of getting a stepmother for Christmas, but I know it isn’t going to happen. Dad already told me not to get too attached to her; I think a break up is inevitable. It’ll probably happen sometime after the New Year, so he won’t have to find a date for New Year’s Eve.

I hope you have a Merry Christmas my dear friend, I will be thinking about you and hoping you get everything you ask for and more. 

Your friend,  
Patrick

TBC. . .

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is still crazy, but I worked on this chapter a little bit every day this week so I could be finished with it for today. I hope you enjoyed it, in December I might post a little Christmas one-shot in this AU. But for now, I am leaving it here. The next chapter will have a time jump because I am beginning to be daunted by this story and I want to speed things along. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I’ll be looking forward to your reviews!


	7. Chapter 7

.  
Chapter 7

Chicago

The months and years passed quickly and they kept up their letter correspondence. Sometimes, they would write to each other three times a week. Before Teresa knew it she was on the verge of 13-years-old, the very age Patrick had been when he had first started writing each other. She was excited about the growing up process, about first dates, periods, sleep away camp, and Catholic school. But then something happened, something that caused her to grow up faster than most girls her age.

Dear Patrick,

How do you write about something that changed your life? How do you put into words when you lose somebody that means the world to you? I don’t know how to say it; I don’t know how to find the words to tell you my mother is dead. 

She went out to buy ice cream to celebrate a good grade on my history test and a drunk driver hit her. They said she was dead on arrival. They couldn’t do anything to help her, she was just gone. She didn’t even have a chance. The drunk driver is in critical condition, but he will probably pull through. My aunt says that they always do. I can’t hate him the way everybody else does though. There had to be tragic circumstances in his life to make him go out and get so drunk that he wasn’t thinking clearly enough when he got in his car. I cannot believe he got into the car with the intent to kill somebody, with the intent to harm anybody. He just wasn’t thinking clearly.

I miss my mom, Patrick. I keep expecting her to walk through the door with ice cream or to be singing one of her favorite Irish hymns while she cleans the house. I can still hear the words of How Great Thou Art so clearly. I can imagine her telling me that God is great even though He took her away from me too soon. And so, I choose not to be bitter and angry or turn my back on Him. The faith I always thought was my mother and my father’s alone has become mine during this time in my life. 

Yesterday my aunt gave me my mother’s cross necklace. She got it from the police and said my mother had been planning on giving me one just like it on my first day of Catholic school. It makes me feel like I am closer to her and I don’t think I will ever take it off.

I wish you were here my closest friend. Leah is here as often as possible and her strength is getting me through this time just as much as God is. But I still want you; you always know what to say. You always know what to do. And I think you could tell me what it would be like to live without my mother. 

Please think of me often. Write to me soon. I need to hear from you, I need some reassurance that not everybody in my life is going to leave because I’m afraid I will turn around and somebody else I love will be gone.

Love,  
Teresa 

.

Florida

Patrick folded up the letter after reading it through a couple times. His heart ached for his young friend and her mammoth loss. He wiped away the tears from his cheeks and then stashed the letter away with all the others she had sent him over the course of two years. He grabbed his sandals and shut out the trailer lights, not bothering to leave his father a note to tell him where he was going.

He ran to Eddie’s house, ignoring the way the weather wrapped around him like a blanket and the way sweat broke out on his back. He wasn’t thinking clearly, he wasn’t thinking about anything except for Teresa. 

Eddie was outside, practicing skateboard tricks when he got to the Miller household. His friend stopped abruptly and frowned when he saw him. “Man, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said. 

“How much money do you have?” Patrick asked in way of greeting.

“I dunno,” Eddie answered. “How much do you need?”

“Half of whatever it costs to two round trip, greyhound tickets to Chicago,” Patrick replied. 

“Boy, why are you going to Chicago?” Eddie asked, putting his hands on his hips, his frown deepening. 

“I’m not going to Chicago alone, you’re coming with me!”

“Oh no, you’ve got that crazy look on your face! The one you wear when you come up with one of your crazy plans. Well, I’m not going to be a part of it. No sir! There’s no way that you’re dragging me to Chicago! My parents would ground me for a month! No for a year!”

“Eddie, we have to go to Chicago. Teresa’s mother was killed in a car crash a few days ago.”

“Oh, well, why didn’t you say that in the first place?” Eddie asked. 

Patrick made a face. “Would have it helped?”

“No! What are you thinking? We can’t just go and crash somebody’s funeral! Especially when they aren’t expecting us! Where do you think they’re going to put us? Do you expect them to feed us?”

“So, you’re coming with me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered. “We’ll have to wait until my parents are asleep though, I wouldn’t want them to get suspicious.”

“Or you could just say you’re spending the night at my house.”

“Or I could do that,” Eddie agreed. “I’ll just go and pack a bag, and get my money from my underwear drawer.”

“Why do you keep your money in your underwear drawer?” Patrick asked. “That’s the first place they look because everyone always assumes that’s the place you’ll put it because you think it’s the last place they’ll look.”

“You are so weird,” Eddie informed him as he picked up his skateboard and stashed it on the porch.

“Patrick!” Mrs. Miller said, coming out of the porch and wiping her hands off on a worn kitchen towel. “We haven’t seen you in a while!”

“And you’re not going to,” Eddie replied. “We’re going to his house to study because it’s quiet there, if you catch my drift.”

“Are you telling me what you’re doing Edward? Or asking me?” Mrs. Miller asked.

“Asking,” Eddie answered. “I’m definitely asking.”

“You can go,” Mrs. Miller told him. “But you have to be back by bedtime.”

“But mom!” Eddie protested, stopping abruptly when Patrick jabbed him in the ribs. “Ooof, I mean, okay. . . I’ll be back by then! I just need to go to my bedroom and grab my backpack. Come on Patrick.” 

Patrick followed him to his bedroom and watched as Eddie emptied his books out of his backpack and stuffed them under his mattress. “Don’t just stand there, start getting my clothes and money out before my mom comes in and finds us!”

“Eddie!” Patrick said in exasperation.

“Just do it! There is no way I am going on a road trip without fresh underwear! Or at least two changes of clothes! You won’t like it either when we both start to stink!”

“Okay, okay!” Patrick replied, opening up drawers and scooping clothes out and throwing them at Eddie.

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “Can’t you fold them properly!”

“We only have until ten ‘o'clock to get out of here! We can worry about folding them properly at a rest stop or something!” Patrick answered.

“Fine!” Eddie said, rolling his eyes as he went to his underwear drawer and pulled out four pairs of boxer shorts and a wooden box, he took a wad of bills out of the box and stuffed it into the back of his jeans. “Okay, let’s get out of here! I’m sure we need to stop by your house and get clothes and money.”

“I already have money. . .” Patrick hedged

“Oh no, I am not traveling with you if you don’t bring a change of clothes.”

“Fine! We’ll go back to my trailer and get some clothes, but then we’re leaving for the greyhound station.”

“Uh, Patrick, the greyhound station is an hour away if we skateboard. And don’t you think it’ll be a good idea to tell somebody where we’re going?”

Patrick huffed. “We’ll go and ask Candy to give us a ride, and we’ll tell her where we’re going. Happy?”

“I guess, but what if Candy spills the beans to Billy?” 

“Candy isn’t going to spill the beans to Billy!” Patrick answered.

“Why not? She’s married to the man isn’t she? My mom tells my dad everything. Truth is the foundation of any good marriage.”

“We’ll tell her she can’t tell anybody else other than Billy! Now stop talking and start moving!” Patrick said.

“Aye, aye Captain!” Eddie answered, smirking as he saluted him. 

.

Chicago 

Teresa clutched her rosary beads between both her hands and closed her burning eyes as Siobhan’s best friend; Maeve started to sing the Last Rose of Summer. Leah was sitting next to her with her hand on her knee. Pretty soon the service was going to be over and they would be heading to the cemetery to bury her. As she thought about the pallbearers closing her mother’s coffin and lowering her into the ground, she could hardly breathe.

“It’s okay,” Leah whispered, sensing her distress. “It’s all going to be okay.”

But Teresa knew that her best friend didn’t really believe it, they both knew that it wouldn’t be okay. At least not for the time being. But still, it was a comfort to hear her say it.

Maeve ended her song and hung her head for a moment, before she went back to her pew and the arms of her husband. There was a pause and then the priest nodded to the pallbearers. Her brothers, a cousin, father, and her close guy friend from high school all lovingly closed the lid of the coffin and made a slow processional out of the church as another family friend played Amazing Grace on the bagpipes. 

Teresa got to her feet and with Leah’s help; she followed her family out of the church. They stood outside while her mother was loaded into the hearse. Leah held her hand tightly but didn’t say anything more. 

She stared sightlessly at the car that would take her mother away and tried to swallow past the lump in her throat. For a second, she thought about Patrick. She had looked for his words of comfort and assurance among the bevy of with sympathy cards that had come through the mail, but he hadn’t sent her anything. Not a card or a note, or one of his long letters filled with facts and funny stories. 

There had been flowers from Candy and her new husband, Billy. It had surprised her father and touched her to know somebody that she had never met cared about her. She released a deep breath and prayed that maybe there would be a letter from Patrick when she got home from the funeral and after everybody had left them alone for once and for all.

“Come milis,” Maeve said in her soft Irish accent. “Your father is waiting for you in the limo with the rest of your family. Leah and I will see you at the cemetery.”

Leah turned to her and hugged her. “It’ll be okay,” she said again.

Teresa nodded and hugged her back before taking Maeve’s hand and following her to the limo. Maeve took her into her arms and held her for a long while before kissing her on the forehead. “Be brave dear heart. God will see us all through this time.”

“I believe you,” Teresa answered, her chest heaving. She swallowed hard, refusing to cry again and turned to get into the limo. There would be time for tears when she was alone.

.

“There she is!” Eddie said, pointing to a twelve-year-old girl who was standing in front of the church steps, holding hands with another girl. 

She was dressed in a dark green dress and black tights, with black Mary Jane’s and her eyes were rimmed with red. Patrick’s heart stopped at the sight of her, she looked so small and so sad, he wanted to wrap her up in his arms until it didn’t hurt anymore. He was about to cross the street to go to her when an older voice stopped him.

“You two cannot crash a funeral!” 

“Dad!” Eddie said, looking flustered. “I’m sorry!”

“Son! Just don’t! You both go to the car now, we’ll discuss this later.”

“Great,” Eddie muttered. “Just great! I am in so much trouble!”

“Yes, you are!” Mr. Miller agreed following them to his rental car. You know better than to take a greyhound without saying anything to me and your mother first!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Dad, we’re fifteen!”

“That isn’t exactly a mature adult! Mature adults discuss their plans with other people before they go off and do something stupid!”

“It was my idea!” Patrick interjected. “I’m sorry Mr. Miller!”

“I’m sure. We’ll discuss it when we get back to Florida though. Right now we have to get back to the airport to catch a flight to Orlando.”

Patrick looked out the rear window to catch another wistful glimpse of Teresa. She was hugging a woman with red hair and nodding at something she had said. He put his hand on the window and sighed as she got further and further away from him. 

When they were on the airplane, he got two sheets of paper and a pen from the stewardess. And while he sipped on Coke and ate airline pretzels, he wrote a letter to Teresa.

Dear Teresa,

By now, you probably think I’ve forgotten all about you or that I am trying to avoid you. That is not the case at all. I’ve been traveling; I took a greyhound to Chicago to see you. I wanted to be there for you, I was there. But Eddie’s father came and reminded us that we shouldn’t barge in on your funeral. So, this letter has to be the second best thing I can offer you.

I am thinking about you, always. I wish your mother was still alive and that life was always going to be the same for you. You of all people don’t deserve for bad things to happen to you. Please know I am always here for you even though we are miles apart, if you ever need anything just tell me and I will try to give it to you. I promise. I’m not going anywhere. 

I know I am usually good with words, but I cannot come up with any that you would want to hear right now. You have probably heard “I am so sorry” and “everything is going to be okay?” more times than you can count. So, I won’t say anything else. I won’t give you my deepest regrets, even though you do have them. And I will not say everything is going to be okay because I am sure right now you are trying to figure out how everything will ever be okay again. 

I am here Teresa. All you need to do is put pen to paper and write to me. I will do my best to reply, I will do my best to be the shoulder you need to lean on when you are not strong. 

Until next time.

Love,  
Patrick

.

Chicago

“I’m going out Teresa! Don’t forget to lock the door when I leave!”

“Okay dad!” Teresa called back, knowing better than to argue with him, knowing better than to ask him to stay. The last time she had begged him to stay, she had to wear long sleeves for a week and it was still warm outside. People had asked her questions and she hadn’t known how to answer them.

Her mother had always said she was a bad liar.

She reread Patrick’s letter one more time before folding it up and tucking it into her hope chest. When she looked up from closing the lid, she saw Tommy looking at her. 

“Is everything okay?” She asked.

“Daddy’s gone again,” Tommy said. “He’s always gone now.”

“I know,” Teresa answered, going to him and wrapping her arms around him. “Daddy’s just sad right now. Everything will be okay in a little while though.”

“When?” Tommy whispered. 

Teresa shrugged. “I don’t know it might take a while. But I’m sure everything is going to be okay eventually. It has to be.”

Dear Patrick,

Thank you for your letter. I was afraid that you had forgotten all about me. Especially when all the sympathy cards and flowers started to come in and there wasn’t anything from you. Thank you for coming all this way and trying to see me, it means a lot to me. Even if we actually didn’t see each other face-to-face, you thought about coming and that is all that counts. I just hope you didn’t get into too much trouble. 

My mother has been buried for a week today. It was a beautiful funeral. Her best friend, Maeve sang the Last Rose of Summer and my Uncle Joe read her eulogy. The whole church was covered in her favorite flowers. And before they lowered her into the ground at the cemetery, my father threw himself on her coffin and begged them to bury him with her. 

He’s not doing well. I am worried about him, he’s been working long hours at the fire station and staying out even later. We barely see him, last week I asked him not to go out because we need him here, but. . . but he got upset with me. I don’t think he knows what to do without my mother. She was his rock. His shoulder to cry on when he had to pull a little kid’s body out of the river or cut a dying family out of their car. I am trying to be there for him, but my mother’s shoes are big ones to fill. I don’t think I’ll ever be her.

Tonight, I lied to my brother. I told him everything was going to be okay eventually. But in my heart, I know it isn’t true. My mother is gone and nothing is going to ever be the same again. Right now when we need our father the most, he is separating himself from us. 

Maeve told me to be brave. And I am pretending to be because I think if I don’t, I’m going to fall apart and be the scared little girl I’m supposed to be.

Love,  
Teresa

TBC. . .

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will not say how crazy things are around here because it goes without saying. I hope you guys liked this chapter, even though there was a significant time jump and it was slightly sadder than the first six, I had always planned on doing this. For a second, I considered not having Lisbon’s mom die and then I decided to keep it really canon. Please leave your thoughts in the box below. I am looking forward to hearing from you.


	8. Chapter 8

.  
Chapter 8

Chicago

Dear Patrick,

Summer is almost over. I haven’t written to you in a few weeks because my brothers and I spent the rest of the summer with our Moretti grandparents at their lake house. They don’t have anything to connect us to the outside world; they say the lake house is the only way to catch a break from real life. And it was. It was a really nice break from real life. My aunt and uncle were there with my cousin Kate. But my father stayed away, he said that he had to stay for work, but he wasn’t working. The station gave him a couple of months off to grieve my mother properly. They call it bereavement time. He probably spent most of his time at his favorite bar. I may still be a little girl, but I know what beer smells like. I know that my father has taken to drinking too much. And that he doesn’t want to be with us, his kids. We remind him of my mother, even though people say I favor him more than I ever will my mother. 

And now we’re home. The house is big and empty without her, her smell is almost gone. I am afraid that one day it will leave completely. Especially because when we had come back, my father got rid of all of her things. Her books, her records, her clothes, her perfume. Like he is trying to wipe her existence away. I think he has forgotten he is not the only one who lost somebody.

School is starting tomorrow. Yesterday my mom’s friend Ingrid took me out to buy my uniform and school supplies. We stopped for pizza on the way home and she told me stories about my mother. Stories that I already knew it’s the things I don’t know that nobody bothers telling me. I don’t think I’ll ever find out what I don’t know about her. Not that her life was a huge secret. She was a good Catholic girl. She was a virgin when she met and married my father. She never loved anybody else except for him. She wanted the same thing for me. . .

Except, I do not think I will ever fall in love or get married. Not if the way my father has been acting is the end result. I have seen love at its strongest and I have seen it after it has fallen apart; I do not want to have any part in it. Not anymore. Do not try and convince me otherwise because I know you will. 

People are saying I am acting older than almost 13. The thing is I have to. Somebody has to take charge or everything is going to fall apart to the point of not coming back together again.

I hope you’re doing well. I’m thinking about you often.

Love,  
Teresa

She straightened out her red-and-gold striped tie, pulled up her knee-socks then tightened the straps of her Mary Janes before grabbing the envelope addressed to Patrick so she could put it in the mailbox before school. 

“You look completely different!” 

She whirled around and found Leah smiling at her, a paper bag in hand. 

“Geez Leah, don’t sneak up on me like that!” Teresa replied. “And who let you in anyways?” 

“James,” Leah answered. “I thought we could walk to school together. The Catholic school isn’t too far from the middle-school. And I can’t stand thinking about riding the school bus without you.”

“Thanks,” Teresa said, looking at herself in the mirror again.

“You look fine,” Leah told her. “Different, but fine. Isn’t that the only point of uniforms anyways? So you don’t have to worry about what you look like?”

“Maybe, or maybe they just don’t want to worry about dress code violations.”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Dress code violations. You sound grown up. Anyways, I brought bear claws. Your favorites. We can eat them on the way to school if you’d like.”

“Sure, I just need to see if my brothers are ready for school and then we’ll take them to the bus stop and we can be on our way.”

“Okay,” Leah agreed, following Teresa out of her bedroom and down the stairs to the living room where a rerun of Sesame Street was on and Stan was watching it with rapt attention. 

“Ready for the first day of school Stan?” Teresa asked.

“Do I have to go?” Stanly whined. 

“We talked about this Stan, you’re in first grade. You have to go to school, besides there isn’t going to be anybody home today. And you can’t stay here by yourself. Now shut off the TV and go get your backpack.”

Stanly rolled his eyes but got up off the floor and did what he was told. 

Teresa stopped him. “Hold on a minute, you have some strawberry jam on your cheek!” she licked her thumb and wiped it off.

“Awww, Reese!” Stanley said, struggling to get out of her hold. “That is disgusting! There is no way I want your girl spit all over me!”

Teresa smiled. “Yeah, I know. Now go and get your backpack.”

“Reese!” Tommy called, coming in from the kitchen. “James drank the last of the milk and we don’t have anything for lunch.”

“What do you mean you don’t have anything for lunch?” Teresa asked. “I made peanut butter and jelly when I woke up this morning. . .” 

“We ate it,” Tommy told her. “Because we were still hungry after your crummy oatmeal!”

Teresa sighed. “Grandmother gave me some money for school supplies, there’s a little leftover, I guess you guys can have it for lunch. But only today! Did you hear me?”

“Yea, yeah. . .” Tommy answered. “We can only have lunch money today. JAMES! TERESA SAID WE COULD BUY OUR LUNCH!” 

Teresa checked her watch. “We have to be going or you’re going to miss the bus and if that happens, we’re all going to be late for school.”

“Whatever,” Tommy muttered as James and Stanley joined them. 

“Is everybody ready?” Teresa asked.

“We’re all ready,” James assured her, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry sis, you’ve got this.”

“Thanks James,” Teresa said, putting on her navy suit jacket before picking up her own backpack. “Come on, let’s get going guys.”

.

Florida

“Do you like my new dress?” Scout asked Patrick twirling around him in her royal purple sundress. 

“Very nice,” Patrick answered. “Do you like my new shorts?”

Scout looked at them and nodded. “Very nice,” she mimicked. 

“Are you ready for the first day of school today?” Patrick asked. 

Scout made a noise and shook her head. “Nomo, I am not ready for the first day of school! Are you?”

“Of course!” Patrick answered. “I’m always ready for the first day of school.”

Scout made a face. “Weird-o!” 

“Scout Miller, you better get out to that bus stop right now!” Mrs. Miller shouted from the kitchen. 

“Ooops!” Scout smiled at Patrick. “See you later! Have a good day!”

“You too Scout,” Patrick answered. 

“We should be going too,” Eddie said, coming out from his bedroom. “Good to see you Patrick, how you’ve been?”

“Fine,” Patrick replied. “You?”

“Bored,” Eddie answered. “Really, really bored. The next time you tell me to go across the country with you, remind me how stupid it is. I am getting way too old to be grounded for the whole summer.”

“If we ever go cross country again,” Patrick said, punching him in the shoulder. “Have you been drinking chocolate milk this morning?”

“Hahaha,” Eddie answered. “This is my new mustache.”

“I’d go shave it off if I were you; no girl is going to believe you weren’t drinking chocolate milk this morning.”

“Patrick, I thought that was you!” Mrs. Miller said, coming out of the kitchen and drying her hands on her apron. “Long time, no see! We’ve missed you around here.”

“I missed you too,” Patrick replied, giving her a hug. 

“How’s your little friend doing these days?” 

“I don’t know,” Patrick admitted. “I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks. I hope she’s okay though. . .”

“Well, everybody in my ladies group at church is praying for her. Such a terrible tragedy.” She turned to Eddie. “Ready to be set free young man?”

“You know I am,” Eddie replied, giving her a kiss on a cheek. 

“Remember, you have to come straight home from school every day this week,” Mrs. Miller reminded him. “You’re on probation now; I don’t want to hear anything about you going to New York.”

“Okay,” Eddie answered. “I’ll be home, don’t worry about it.”

“Do you want to come over for dinner?” Mrs. Miller asked Patrick.

“I wish I could, but I’m going out with Candy and Billy. Could I come tomorrow?”

“Of course!” Mrs. Miller answered. “Now go on, you two don’t want to be late for school.”

“Okay mom, love you!” Eddie said, giving her another kiss on the cheek. 

“Love you too,” Mrs. Miller replied, kissing him back.

.

“So, did your dad come down hard on you?” Eddie asked as he mounted his bike. 

“No,” Patrick replied. “When I came home he hadn’t even realized I was gone. He’s so busy with his own life, he didn’t even care.”

“What about Billy and Candy? Or Ethel and Fred?” 

“They metaphorically slapped me on the wrist,” Patrick answered. “It isn’t like they can do anything else, they aren’t my real parents.”

“So, what did you do with the rest of your summer then?” 

“I spent most of it with Candy or at Billy’s pizza parlor. And when I wasn’t with them, I helped Fred around the trailer park. None of them let me out of their sight for very long.” 

“But I thought Candy gave you permission to go.”

“Only because she couldn’t tell me not to go. Besides, she sold us out to your dad, remember?”

“Oh. . .” Eddie trailed off. “Right. Well, I’m done dwelling on it. I’m finally almost free; I’ll race you to school!”

Patrick jumped on his own bike and started pedaling as fast as he could. “No fair, you got a head start!” 

Eddie started laughing as he sped up.

.

Dear Teresa,

I haven’t heard from you in a while and I am worried about you. I hope everything is fine and that your father is being the man you need him to be. I know it has only been a couple of months and it still hurts, but I hope that it is getting better. Every night before I go to sleep, I am wishing on the stars outside my window that everything will be better for you one day. And yes, I realize how stupid it is to make wishes at my age. But I don’t feel like I can do anything else for you. My father is so against the God that you believe in, I don’t know if He’ll even listen to my prayers. I don’t even dare try, not even for you one of my closest friends. 

The Millers do it for me. They pray for you every night before bed and on Wednesday at their prayer meetings. I hope that is enough for you. I wish I could do something more. 

School started today. I’m most looking forward to literature even though I have read most of the books in the syllabus. I am looking forward to discussing things with the class and finding out what others take on the books are. Even though I am sure that not everyone will get what the books are really about. They might be growing up but they’re still really stupid. How was your first day? Especially since you started at a whole new school. I want to see what you look like in your uniform and hear what you think about. I’m sure you’ll be amazing. I am sure you’ll make lots of new friends.

And I’m sure Leah will always be there for you like good best friends are. Eddie finally got off being grounded from our little trip to Chicago, but even though we didn’t see each other, I know he was there for me. He got himself grounded for me, didn’t he?

Anyways, I have homework. 

Write soon. 

Love,  
Patrick

.

TBC. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I was really worried it wouldn’t have a good amount of words and it turns out that it did. So, I hope you’ll review and tell me what you think. I’m looking forward to hearing you. Also, the first part of the soundtrack to this story should be coming out soon, I’ll let you know when it happens!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just real fast, there is another time jump. My muse is taking me in completely different directions than when I first started out. Hope you guys don’t mind too much. Also, the Kate I keep mentioning is Kate from Perception. . . I have to credit that idea to my father, who always says Kate is the mini-Lisbon and it got me to thinking, they could be cousins.

.  
Chapter 9  
Chicago 

Patrick, my darling friend,

We haven’t heard from dad in days. I am worried that something horrible has happened to him. Leah, Greg and I skipped school today to try and find him, but he wasn’t at his usual bars or at the fire station, or any of the places he likes to go when he is trying to find his memories of my mother again. Afterwards, we went to church and Leah waited while I lit a candle and said a prayer, but I know something is wrong. My heart is telling me that he won’t be coming home alive. Everything in me wants to be relieved if we have to bury him. The years of physical and mental abuse are finally over. There will be no more trips to the hospital and no more made up stories about what happened because nobody would believe the beloved fire chief was hurting his children. 

But I cannot help wishing that things were different. That our last few years together would have been better. But then if things had been different. . . if things had gone the way they were supposed to, I wouldn’t be worried my father is lying in a morgue somewhere waiting to be identified. He would still be alive right now, and my brothers and I wouldn’t be enduring scars that go way beyond the physical. 

I am a horrible person, Patrick. I am sitting here writing this to you and wishing my father gone. Mostly because I want the drinking and the abuse to stop, mostly because I am tired of lying for him and shielding his secrets and hiding behind long-sleeved shirts. But there is a part of me, the part that still loves my father that is aching for his release. Because I know, I know he will not be happy again until he is with my mother. I hate him, I really do. . . but not enough to wish his suffering would go on. 

Although, normal people get over it eventually. Don’t they? He is the exception to suffering, right? There are fathers out there who have lost their wives and didn’t crawl into a bottle and never come out? They went on and still loved their kids, they recovered enough to move on and share their hearts with another woman who needed to be loved. It is a rhetorical question, because I know there are cases like that out there. I have seen one first hand, two years ago when I started Catholic school, there was a boy and he had lost his mother to a brain aneurysm. His father remarried last year and now they are expecting a baby girl.

There is somebody at the door, I am filled with dread, and I know what is coming next.

.

Dearest Patrick,

Since writing the above, I have had my fears confirmed. My father is dead; they found him choked to death in his own vomit outside where we buried my mother. I have had to comfort my youngest brother, I’ve had to talk Tommy out of not speaking ill of the dead on top of planning another funeral and calling his friends and our family. I feel like I am failing at it though. I think maybe I will wake up tomorrow and realize I have done it all wrong. I am almost eighteen, I should be worried about the homecoming dance, and I should be concentrating on college. College is not in the cards right now, at least not if I want to go out of state. Homecoming will have to wait, money just got a little bit tighter. I need to find a full time job after everything is finally settled down. 

Enough about me. I hope your last year of college is going well. Don’t think about jumping on a Greyhound and coming down here! You need to concentrate on your classes; I still cannot believe you actually broke away from what your father wanted and are pursuing your own dreams. I am proud of you. I am rooting for you. 

Be amazing. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.

Love,  
Teresa

.

She adjusted her black, button-down sweater and then put the letter in the mailbox before going to join her brothers in the car. It was time to put her father to rest, she was glad she had sent the letter to him the day of the funeral. She couldn’t stand the thought of him leaving school just so he could be with her. 

“Ready?” She asked, looking in the rearview mirror at her brothers. 

Jimmy sniffed a few times and shook his head, his chest heaving as another crying jag overtook him. 

“Stop crying James, we’re going to be late if you don’t stop it!” Tommy snapped, looking at him in aggravation. 

“They can’t start without us, right Reese?” Stanley said a little more kindly.

“Right,” Teresa agreed wearily, getting out of the car and going ‘round to her little brother. She opened the door and scooped him up in her arms. “It’s going to be okay.”

“We’re orphans now!” Jimmy wailed. 

Teresa looked a little shocked but then she nodded. “A little bit, but we’re better off than most orphans. We have each other and we always will. I’m not going anywhere. . .”

“You aren’t?” Jimmy asked, sniffing and looking at her.

“Not as long as you need me,” Teresa promised, kissing him on the forehead.

“But what about college?” Stanley asked, always the practical one of the family. “You can’t support us with the part-time job at the diner. You need to get a degree in something, it’s the only way we can all still live together.”

“I’m going to try and pick up more hours at the diner,” Teresa answered. “College can wait until after you guys finish school.”

She didn’t mention that her boyfriend Greg had offered to marry her and move in to help pay the bills. She still wasn’t entirely sure it was what she wanted. She still wasn’t sure she loved Greg enough to spend the rest of her life with him. She hadn’t even mentioned it to Leah or Patrick.

“We have to go,” she said. “Are you okay Jimmy?”

“Yes,” Jimmy answered, rubbing his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” Teresa said, knowing he wasn’t being completely honest with her, but she decided not to press the issue because they were already late as it was.

.

“There you are!” Greg said, coming up to the car as soon as she had parked. “People were starting to wonder where you were. Late for your own father’s funeral, do you know what people are saying?”

“No,” Teresa answered wearily. “And it doesn’t really matter, its our father’s funeral. We can be as late or as early as we want. Do you really think anybody is going to say anything to our faces, Greg?”

“Well. . . I guess not,” Greg admitted. “But where were you?”

“Settling some things with Jimmy,” Teresa replied, putting her arm around her little brother and walking past her boyfriend and towards Leah, who was waiting for her with open arms. 

“Come on,” Leah said, glaring at Greg as she hugged her tightly. “Father O'Malley is waiting to have a word with you before the service starts.”

“He isn’t upset, is he?” Teresa asked anxiously. “We would have been here sooner, but Jimmy. . .”

“He understands,” Leah assured her. “Go on, I’ll let people know you’re here.”

“Thank you,” Teresa said, hugging her again. 

The meeting with Father ‘O'Malley was brief; he offered them a few words of comfort and then prayed a simple Catholic prayer with them before escorting them to the front of the church. The service started but Teresa barely noticed it until one of the men her father had worked with stood up and began to sing the Parting Glass.

Even though her father wasn’t Irish, it was a fitting song to lay her father to rest. It had been one of his favorites and he’d have everybody singing it with him at the end of any gathering. Teresa closed her eyes and willed the bitterness towards her father to go away.

Her fingers wrapped around her cross and she prayed with all her heart that he had found finally found peace.

.

Florida

“Who’s Teresa?” Angela Ruskins asked as she crawled back into bed and dropped the envelope on Patrick’s face.

Patrick yawned and blinked a few times, turning down the Rupert Holmes record that was blasting from the player near his bed. “Teresa? She’s my pen pal from third grade; I told you all about her.”

“No you didn’t,” Angela answered. “You did not tell me that you were still in contact with her.”

Patrick sighed and shut the song off completely. “Yes, I did. I’ve told you a dozen times that we still write each other. She’s like my little sister.”

“Oh yeah?” Angela asked, tossing her long, chestnut hair over her bare shoulders. 

“Yes,” Patrick said, rolling his eyes. “Has anybody told you how unbecoming jealousy is? She’s my friend, my little sister. . . nothing more.”

“Her father died,” Angela told him. 

Patrick frowned. “You opened my letter?”

“I thought she was just your friend,” Angela said. “If that’s the case, why does it matter if I read your letter?” 

“You’re welcome to read my mail anytime you’d like, I have nothing to hide,” Patrick told her. “I’d just appreciate it if you’d let me do it first.”

Angela rolled her eyes as she got off the bed and adjusted her strapless dress. “Okay, okay. If it’ll make you happy, I won’t do it again. Eddie says breakfast is almost ready. Why are you still rooming with him anyways?”

“Because he’s my best friend and he’s living on a seminary student’s salary,” Patrick answered as he gave her a kiss. “Now could you go and tell him that I’ll be right there? I just want to read my letter from Teresa in private.”

“Fine,” Angela said. “See you in a while.”

When she was gone, Patrick unfolded the letter and scanned the contents. His heart went out to his friend; she had lost so much in the span of a few years. He glanced at his wristwatch and then grabbed a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Teresa was right, he couldn’t go and see her, but he could help with her homecoming dress problem.

.

“That poor, poor thing!” Candy said, shaking her head as she wrote out a check for one hundred dollars. “Losing her father and her mother, and in such a short amount of time too! Five years, it’s tragic. Tragic!”

“Are you sure that Billy won’t mind if you give her money so she can go to homecoming?” Patrick asked.

“Of course I won’t!” Billy answered, coming into the living room still dressed in his pajamas. “All I want is to see a picture of her in her dress!”

“I’m sure we can arrange something,” Patrick said as Candy handed him the check. 

“Make sure you tell her that we’re thinking about her and tell her that she’s loved,” Candy told him. “Okay? And don’t go running off to see her again!”

“Okay,” Patrick said, kissing her on the cheek before shaking hands with Billy. “And thank you. Thank you so much.”

His next stop was an hour out to visit Ethel and Fred at their new retirement home; he knew they couldn’t give much money but that they would want to help out as much as they could. None of them knew Teresa personally, but they all loved her more than anything in the world and he knew they would do whatever they could to help her out.

.

Dear Teresa,

I was so sorry to hear about your father. I know he is happy now and that he is out of pain, but it doesn’t make it any less painful for you. You have lost both your parents now. It kills me to think about you in Chicago all by yourself, trying to take care of things. I know you have Greg and Leah, but still. . .

He trailed off, not knowing what else to add after that. So, he changed the subject.

I am not going to board any Greyhounds to come and see you even though I would like to. But I felt like I had to do something for you. . . so, I collected some money for your homecoming dress. Candy and Billy contributed enough for your dress and Eddie, Ethel, Fred and Mrs. Miller added a little bit more for shoes and Greg’s boutonniere. It’s a gift, not charity. I hope you’ll take it and for a little while, you’ll forget your troubles. 

I am thinking about you my darling friend. 

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows  
(Here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)  
And this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart  
I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)

Love,  
Patrick

.

Chicago 

Teresa whirled around in the simple emerald green dress that Patrick had helped her buy. “Isn’t it beautiful?” 

Leah nodded in approval and snapped a picture of her mid-dance. “You look very pretty! Wait until Greg sees you, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you. And I’m pretty sure that Patrick will die when he sees these pictures.”

“You really think so?” Teresa asked as she stopped dancing and turned the tape player off, stopping Donna Summers and Barbra Streisand mid-duet.

“Do I really think so what?” Leah asked. “That Greg won’t be able to take his eyes off you or that Patrick will die when he sees your pictures?”

“Greg,” Teresa lied quickly, running her fingers through her new haircut. “I mean, I don’t care if Patrick dies or not. He has a girlfriend.”

“Oh! Greg will definitely not be able to take his eyes off of you!” Leah replied, even though she knew her best friend was lying. She was a terrible liar. “I mean, if I were a guy than I would be all over you.”

The doorbell rang and Teresa shrieked. “It’s Greg!”

“Go upstairs!” Leah ordered. “Pretend like you’re making a grand entrance!”

Teresa hitched up her dress and took the stairs two at a time, despite her heels. She waited against the wall until she heard Leah greeting Greg and then she made her appearance, pretending for only a second that she was Molly Ringwald and her life was a John Hughes movie.

Greg smiled at her when he saw her coming. “Wow! You look gorgeous Reese!”

Teresa smiled. “Thank you. You look good too.”

“Have a good time tonight!” Leah said, kissing her cheek. “And remember, you’re going to be eighteen, not fifty. Enjoy yourself!” 

“Thank you!” Teresa replied, hugging her tightly before.

.

Dear Patrick,

Tonight was homecoming at Greg’s school. It was fun. . . sort of, almost. Not really. It was fun until we got to the end of it. And then I made the choice that I regretted as soon as it was over. I do not know why I did it, except I guess like I felt I had to. Especially after he bought the tickets to the dance and rented the tux and limo. And he whispered to me the sweetest things, how I was beautiful and I smelled good, and I felt like a million bucks against the soundtrack of a Berlin song. But then they weren’t as sweet as the e. e Cummings quote you shared with me in your last letter. He didn’t tell me he carried my heart in his heart he didn’t even say that he loved me. 

And now it’s over and I feel so empty. I wish my mother was here to tell me that everything will be okay. She hasn’t been here on any of the events that have made me into a woman. I had to tell Sister Muriel about my first period and now I have nobody to tell about this. I can’t tell any of the sisters because they frown at pre-marital sex. I cannot tell my Aunt Lee (Kate’s mother) or even Leah. And I would never tell my brothers, especially since I have been the poster child for good behavior. 

Are you disappointed with me? I wouldn’t blame you if you were. I am disappointed with myself. 

I know Greg is at home justifying our actions. I haven’t told anybody this but after we found out my father had passed away, Greg offered to marry me. And that is how he can justify what we did, because in his mind we are already as good as married. But I cannot do it. I cannot justify what we did because I am not going to marry him. I love him and I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t want to marry him. And I don’t think he wants to marry me either. Not really. Maybe he feels obligated to help out because that is the way the male brain works. Most of them are wired to protect women and children. He was being the person God created him to be. But I do not want to tie him down. I do not want to tie him down. 

Tell me everything is going to be okay. Tell me. . . anything. I can take it. I promise I can. 

Love,  
Teresa

P.S  
There are a few pictures enclosed in the envelope.

She wiped the tears away from her eyes and sniffed as she folded up the letter. She didn’t bother to read it through; she knew if she did then she would change her mind about sharing it with him. And she needed to share it with someone because it was killing her to keep it to herself. She stuffed it in an envelope and licked it shut. 

Teresa had just finished addressing it when Leah came in with a white paper bag that was no doubt filled with bear claws. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Leah asked. “And don’t say anything. I know you’ve been crying.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Teresa answered, getting up and going over to the mirror to tie her tie and fix her hair. 

“Then why were you crying?” Leah pressed.

“I wasn’t. . .”

“Stop lying to me,” Leah said. “You’re a terrible liar and even if you weren’t, the proof is all over your face. Your mascara is running all over the place.” 

Teresa took a deep breath and swiped her fingers over her cheeks as she hesitated. “Something happened at homecoming. . .”

Leah’s face turned white. “Oh no! You’re not pregnant are you?”

“What? No! I’m not pregnant!” Teresa answered, her lower lip quivering slightly. 

“Then what is it?” Leah asked. “Is it your grandparents? Patrick? Kate? Your brothers?”

“They’re all fine,” Teresa assured her as she took a deep breath. “Leah, I did something. Something that I regret.”

TBC. . .

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing, I am making Angela the way she is because of the direction my muse is taking me. Originally, I was going to go with the show version of Angela but it isn’t working out that way. I hope you don’t mind too much. Tell me what you think in the box below, if you’d like. I’m off to make dinner!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For everybody who didn’t get it, Teresa slept with Greg and she regretted it. Now that we got that cleared up, onto chapter 10.

.  
Chapter 10  
Florida

Dearest Teresa,

I know you are feeling guilty about some of the choices you have made. You are such a good little Catholic girl. But it doesn’t make you a bad person. You’re young, you’re feeling the pressure and maybe looking for something you think is missing. I cannot blame you for what you did. I think your God understands you are only human and that He will forgive you if you ask and mean it. At least that is what Eddie is always telling me and he has never lied to me, not once. One day, it will not matter. Even if you meet the person you do love. I think that if he truly deserves you, he will not hold what you believe to be transgressions against you. And you will not hold his against him. 

And a word of advice to you, if you are going to end things with Greg then does it soon. It is better to do it quickly rather than prolonging it. In the end you might be the person who is hurt the most even if you are the one doing the breaking up. 

I am thinking of you my dearest friend. I am thinking of you and not judging you. I only want all the best things in the world for you. And I will still be here when you find it, when you find him. I will be here until you send me away.

I promise.

Love,  
Patrick

.

He tapped his pencil against the table and looked at Eddie, who was sleeping on his Bible. Seminary was taking a toll on him, but he was rising to the occasion and becoming a young man that Patrick admired more than words could describe.

He turned his attention back to the letter he had finished writing Teresa and chewed on his bottom lip. She had slept with her boyfriend and now she was filled with guilt because they had gone to bed out of marriage. Reading between the lines he could tell that she felt slightly guilty because she didn’t really love him, but it hadn’t stopped her from using him to look for a little bit of solace.

He hoped her guilt didn’t last too long and she found the forgiveness she was seeking. He folded the letter, unable to think of anything to add to it and then woke up Eddie and helped him to bed as he mumbled about the sermon he had to deliver in chapel the next morning for his midterm examination. 

“You’ll be great,” Patrick assured him. “But you need sleep, come on pick up your feet. Don’t make me do all the work.”

Eddie nodded and yawned as he straightened up. “Okay.”

.

Chicago 

“Have you ended things with him?” Leah asked, coming into the kitchen and tossing the bag of pastries on the counter. 

“No,” Teresa answered, pouring two cups of coffee and bringing them over to Leah. “I’ll do it tonight. He’s taking me out to dinner, supposedly to give me an engagement ring. I’ll tell him then.” 

Leah raised her eyebrows. “Greg can actually afford an actual engagement ring?” 

“It isn’t like he spent a ton of money on it,” Teresa replied. “Besides, I’m not accepting it. He can return it and get his money back.”

“I bet your rejection speech is as carefully planned as his second proposal.”

“Just be quiet and eat your chocolate croissant,” Teresa retorted, smiling at her as she pushed the sugar and half-and-half towards her friend.

Leah smiled back. “I gotta run actually, I have an early meeting with my guidance counselor. I’ll come over later tonight with ice cream and we can commiserate. Or celebrate whatever you’d like. I just won’t listen to any crap where you say Greg is the last man in the world who will ever want you. He’s not and you’re not allowed to doubt your decision. You’re doing the right thing.”

“Thanks,” Teresa said. “You’re a good friend.”

Leah smirked and took a big gulp of coffee. “I know. I’ve gotta run, I’ll see you later.”

“Okay,” Teresa answered. “See you later.”

“See you later Jimmy,” Leah said ruffling her hair as she passed him. 

“Okay Leah,” Jimmy replied as he yawned and looked at Teresa. “You’re not going to marry Greg?” 

“No,” Teresa told him. “I’m not going to marry him. Is that okay?”

“Well, yeah. . .” Jimmy trailed off as he took a seat at the island and reached for the white paper bag, searching for a chocolate donut, he found one and took a bite. “I kind of always thought you would marry Patrick.”

“Patrick!?” Teresa gasped. “What on earth gave you that idea?”

“Well, you and Leah always talk about him and he writes you all the time,” Jimmy said, licking his fingers. 

“We’ve never met,” Teresa answered.

“So?” Jimmy took another bite of donut and chewed for a while. “It could be like all those romantic comedies you watch with Leah. He’ll come one day and you’ll meet, then we can all move to California and live happily ever after.”

“It’s just movies though,” Teresa told him. “Not real life. In real life, sometimes you don’t meet and you definitely don’t get the happily ever after.”

“Says who?” Jimmy asked.

“You’re too young to understand,” Teresa said, getting some milk from the fridge and pouring him a glass. 

“Everybody always says that,” Jimmy complained. “But I’m not young, not really.”

“I’ll tell you about it one day soon,” Teresa promised. “But not today. You have other things to worry about. Things only younger people should have to worry about. Like school and your friends. And kid things, please do that for me.”

“Okay,” Jimmy finally agreed. “But only for you.”

.

Dear Patrick,

I am writing this during lunch. I wanted to tell you that I am ending things with Greg tonight; by the time you get this I will be single. You are right, it is better to do it quickly rather than prolong it. I feel like it has already gone on too long. 

Leah is coming over afterwards with ice cream to celebrate or commiserate. You decide. Leah and Jimmy seem to think it is something to celebrate. I don’t feel anything though, there isn’t a trace of guilt or freedom or early onset regret. Maybe one day I will see him again and I will feel all those things that I am supposed to feel right now. Maybe not. Right now all I know is that I am doing the right thing. Right now that is enough.

I hope you are doing well. 

Love,  
Teresa

.

Florida

It wasn’t working. Not the way he thought it would. Angela was beautiful and smart, everything he had always wanted in a woman. But it wasn’t working. And he knew that she felt the same way. 

Eddie burst through the door, breaking into his thoughts. “It went really well!” he proclaimed. “I think I’m set to get the internship at the church in California next semester.”

Patrick smiled and capped his pen. “I knew you would do well. I’m happy for you Eddie, really I am.”

“We’ll still be friends, no matter what,” Eddie told him. “You know that, right? I’ve been stuck with you since first grade. I cannot imagine ever losing you.”

“Don’t be a girl about it,” Patrick said, managing to smile.

Eddie sat down across from him. “Something’s on your mind. You aren’t that upset about my possible leaving, are you?”

“No,” Patrick answered. “I’ll look at medical schools in California and we’ll be together again before you know it. You’re not going to get rid of me that easily.”

“Then what is it?” Eddie asked. 

“I’m just thinking about Angela. . .” Patrick trailed off. “And Teresa. And just everything, I’ve never been this confused.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Eddie replied. “You always figure it out. You’re good like that, and when in doubt you can always talk to my mom or Candy. They’re even better at untangling problems than you are.”

“Yeah,” Patrick agreed. “Yeah, maybe I will talk to them.”

“I have to go and shower,” Eddie said as he pulled off his tie. “I have a date with Faith in an hour, okay? By the time I get home, I expect you to have worked things out. Seriously, Patrick. You have a few hours to think it through and then you have to put it behind you.”

“I’ll try,” Patrick answered.

“That’s all I’m asking,” Eddie replied.

“Hey,” Patrick stopped him. “I’m thinking about going to Chicago. To meet her for real this time, I think it might help.”

“Is she saying no to Greg then?” Eddie asked. 

Patrick hesitated and then shook his head. “I haven’t heard from her yet. But it isn’t what you think. I’m not in love with her, that’s ridiculous. She’s like my little sister. . .”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, picking up Teresa’s latest picture. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Oh, shut up and go take your shower!” Patrick retorted. 

Eddie laughed and tossed the picture on the table. “Hey, I’ll go with you. We both have fall break next week, get the tickets and we can go together. Again.”

“Or I can just go by myself,” Patrick answered. “You need to stay here; Faith wanted you to meet her family. You can’t disappoint Faith. You’re going to marry her one day, remember? You said so on your first date.”

“You’re right, you’re right. But you have to promise me you’ll call me after you meet her. We’ve been in this together since third grade; I want to see how it ends.”

“I don’t want it to end,” Patrick finally said.

“Then I don’t think it will.”

.

Dearest Teresa,

I hope things went well with Greg and that if you ended things with him, he is not to upset with you. You only deserve the best, I have always thought so. Ever since you won me over all those years ago when I thought I was above childish things and other children. You came along and proved me wrong. I think I needed somebody to prove me wrong. Thank you for that. 

I hope you are doing well. . .

Patrick paused for a moment, wondering if he should add the part about his visit or just surprise her with it. After contemplating it for a while, he decided to skip it and just show up, even though there could be consequences or she might not want to see him. He put his pen back to paper and wrote a few more lines.

I am doing fine. 

Eddie is most likely going to intern at a church in California and I am going to follow him and Faith and go to medical school there. 

I know I mentioned Faith in one of my last letters; things are really serious between her and Eddie. Next week during fall break, he is going to meet her family. Without me. This is the way it is supposed to be, even though I am going to follow them to California. 

I hope to hear from you soon.

Love,  
Patrick

.

Chicago

“Is it over?” Leah asked, coming into the living room cautiously.

“Yeah,” Teresa answered, sighing. “It’s over.”

“And how did he take it?” 

“He was. . .” Teresa trailed off and shrugged. “I don’t know a combination of disappointed and maybe relieved. He’s too young to be a husband and he’s definitely too young to be a father. It is a huge commitment and I don’t want to be the one responsible for tying him down.”

“Is that the exact speech you gave him? Or is the condescend version?” Leah asked.

“It’s the condescended version,” Teresa answered, smiling at her sheepishly.

Leah sat down and took out to pints of ice cream. “Did he say you could still be. . . friends?” 

“No,” Teresa replied. “He didn’t say we could still be friends and I didn’t even suggest it. I want to put this whole thing behind me and move on.”

Leah handed her a plastic spoon and her pint of ice cream. “Well then, to moving on.”

“To moving on,” Teresa echoed, feeling a shaky sense of relief as she took her first spoonful of ice cream. “To moving on. . .”

.

Dear Patrick,

You’ll be getting this right on the heels of my last letter. I just wanted you to know things are over between me and Greg. It was painless and we parted not as friends, but not hating each other. 

I feel relieved. I really do. So, don’t worry about me because I’m fine and ready to pursue my own dreams. I’m going to become a detective just like I said all those years ago. Nancy Drew without the two friends, the car, the boyfriend or the titan hair. What is titan hair anyways? I have to get Jimmy through eighth grade and then I am free to do whatever I want because Stan said he would get him through high school. For right now I am planning on taking community college courses. 

I just need to finish my senior year of high school.

It is nice to finally concentrate on what I want. 

Hope to hear from you soon.

Love,  
Teresa

TBC. . .

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re in the final stretches here. I want to have this finished up by November. I am in the midst of writing my first chapter for my annual Christmas story, so I am excited about that. I hope you will tell me what you thought of this chapter. Looking forward to hearing from you! Or for the kudos, whatever you prefer.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There aren’t any letters in this chapter.

.  
Chapter 11

Florida

Patrick checked one more time to see if he had his ticket before boarding the greyhound. In two days, he was going to finally see her for real. His heart was beating in anticipation as the bus started to move forward. He hoped with all his heart that she would want to see him because even though they had been friends for a very long time, he still didn’t know if she would want to really know him. He was going to her with no expectations; he was going to her only for the opportunity to hear her voice, to see a 3D picture of her instead of what he saw in photographs.

He told himself that it was enough.

Even though he knew it really wouldn’t be enough if that was all he got. The greyhound turned on the highway and he began to pray like he had never prayed before. 

.

Chicago 

It had been raining for four days straight and the weatherman said it wouldn’t be letting up anytime soon. Teresa was glad for it, it matched her mood. Gloomy and dreary, nothing had really been the same since she had broken up with Greg. Oh, she was still glad she had done it, but when she thought about it too long, she didn’t feel any freer than she had when she’d been going out with him. 

She was still attached to Chicago, still stuck in the house where she had grown up with a tired chorus of Halloween costumes to make and field trips to sign off on. There were stomach bugs to battle and actual flues to conquer. She was quickly becoming discontented even though she didn’t mean to.

The door opened and Leah came inside, shaking her umbrella off and dropping it on the floor. “It’s still raining. Maybe we should just play hooky today; we could curl up under the covers and watch soap operas all day. Or just listen to music, if you want.”

“And what would I tell my brothers?” Teresa asked, starting the coffee pot. “Do we let them play hooky too or do we send them to school and pretend like we’re going.”

“Well, seeing that James and I go to the same school. . . it might be a problem,” Leah answered. “So, we could all play hooky!”

“It’s a tempting offer,” Teresa replied, rubbing her temples. “But I don’t think we should do it. Not today.”

Leah sighed. “Okay, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. I think you need chocolate today and lots of it! I can tell you’re a little down in the dumps. Maybe it’s all the rain.”

“The rain,” Teresa echoed. 

“Are you regretting your decision to break things off with Greg?”

“Never! I think you’re right, I think it’s all the rain.”

“Well then, why don’t we just skip school and drive until we find some sunshine?” Leah suggested.

Teresa frowned. “Why are you so set on skipping school today? Did something happen this week? Did you not study for a test or something?”

“I studied for my test,” Leah assured her. “And nothing bad has happened! Don’t worry about me. You worry enough as it is and I hate it.”

Teresa watched as the coffee dripped into the pot. “I can’t help it if I worry. I have a lot of things on my mind; I have a lot of people to worry about.”

“I didn’t say it was a flaw,” Leah said, taking the usual white paper bag out of her backpack. “I just don’t want you to worry so much, that’s all.”

Teresa smiled. “I know. Come on, let’s eat breakfast and get to school. Later on, you can come over and we’ll curl up under the covers and listen to music just like you want to.”

“Okay,” Leah answered. “And you’re not going to worry about anything like making dinner or getting your homework done. It’ll just be us and the music. Just like the way it’s supposed to be right now.”

Teresa nodded even though she knew the truth; nothing was ever going to be the way it was supposed to be for her. She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes, wishing for something different.

.

Patrick gathered up his things and left the greyhound, regretting the fact that he had left his raincoat and umbrella back in Florida. He hadn’t been thinking about the weather in Chicago when he had made plans to take a trip though, so he was stuck. And there was no way he wouldn’t be getting wet. But he didn’t care. It was a small price to pay to finally get to meet Teresa. He shouldered his backpack and covered his head with a newspaper, ready to brave the elements and go see her.

By the time he reached her house, he wished he had thought out their meeting a little more. He wished he had written her and told her that he was coming. There was something a little off-putting about just showing up on her doorstep. It gave off a little bit of a creep factor; he only hoped she wouldn’t think about it like that when she saw him waiting for her though. 

He sat down on her stoop and waited, reminding himself to breathe because he was shaking so much from the anticipation of their first face-to-face meeting. 

An hour passed and suddenly, a petite brunette he knew very well from pictures was sloshing towards him in rain boots, holding an umbrella as she trudged along. She was wearing a Walkman set and looking at her feet, totally oblivious to his presence. As she got closer, she paused for a second and removed a key from her coat pocket. Then she was looking right at him, for a second it was like she was trying to place his face and then recognition dawned on it. And she smiled.

He got up and started towards her, meeting halfway in the middle of the sidewalk. She held the umbrella over them and then she smiled at him as she reached out to touch him, like she was making sure it wasn’t just a dream. There was a pause, a breath and then she spoke. 

“It’s you.”

And then the rain stopped and the sunshine broke through the gray clouds, bathing them in liquid gold.  
.

Teresa brought him inside and got him a change of clothes. He showered under a stream of hot water while she prepared homemade mac & cheese and tea to chase the rest of the chill away from his walk in the rain. 

He met her in the kitchen, toweling off his blonde curls while he watched her stir pasta and make a cheese sauce while the newest Cranberries tape played on the stereo above her head, she sang along using the wooden spoon as her microphone. 

“And now I tell you openly, you have my heart so don’t hurt me. . .” She trailed off and smiled at him. “I can’t believe you’re actually here. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times but I never thought it would actually happen. And now here you are. . . like something from my dreams.”

“Here you are,” Patrick echoed, not breaking her gaze for a second. 

Teresa smiled and plunked the spoon back in her pasta water. “I hope you’re hungry.”

 

“I could eat,” Patrick answered; his last meal had been at a gas station diner. The eggs had been so awful, he had held off on eating at any of the other pit stops. 

“Good.”

She drained the water from the pasta and added the cheese sauce, mixing it all together. Then she hit the off button on her tape player and served him a late lunch, sitting down beside him as she watched him take a bite.

“Mmmh,” he said, nodding his approval.

“It’s one of my best dishes,” she told him. “All of my brothers say so. . .”

“I agree,” Patrick told her. “But I haven’t had all your dinners, so I guess I can’t really give an informed opinion.”

Teresa bit her lip and played with the frayed ends of her sweatshirt at a loss of what to say to him without a pen and paper in front of her. He was busy eating and not terribly concerned with keeping up the thread of conversation. But surprisingly, the conversation wasn’t uncomfortable. It was like they had known each other in person forever.

“I’m glad you came,” she finally told him. 

“I’m glad you didn’t send me away. I was kind of afraid you would.”

She frowned. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, just because we’ve been writing letters to each other for all these years doesn’t mean you know everything there is to know about me. I could have made everything up as far as you knew.”

“No,” Teresa replied, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think you would have. I always know when you’re lying to me. And I’m always one of the people you could be the most honest with. You never really said it but I always knew it.”

Patrick dropped his fork and took her hand. “It is true. Besides Eddie, you’re the one person who could see me. Even though you really couldn’t.”

“Reese?”

“That’s Leah,” Teresa said, pulling away from him reluctantly. “She didn’t get to stop by this morning like she usually does; she had to be at school early. She comes every day. . .”

“I’ve always wanted to meet her,” Patrick told her. 

“Reese! I brought pastries. . .” Leah trailed off when she saw Patrick sitting at the island. “Oh my gosh. I didn’t know you had company. You didn’t say anything. . .”

“I didn’t know myself,” Teresa replied, standing up. “Leah, this is Patrick.”

“I know!” Leah answered. “I’ve seen his picture enough times to recognize him when he’s staring me right in the face. What is he doing here?” 

“He had fall break, so he came for a visit. But it was a surprise,” Teresa answered. “I had no idea what he was doing until this afternoon.”

Leah smiled like she knew a secret. “Oh. Well, I’ll just leave the donuts and go. I’ll call you later tonight. It was lovely meeting you Patrick.”

“You too,” Patrick echoed.

“Leah, you know you don’t have to go. . .” Teresa started.

“Oh, but I do!” Leah replied, wrapping her scarf around her neck and leaving quickly. “Actually, I saw your brothers walking up the street. I’ll just get them and take them to my house for dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Teresa protested.

But Leah was already gone, leaving Teresa and Patrick all alone once again.

.

The week passed by in a blur, Teresa went to her classes and hurried home right afterwards. Spending every spare second she could with Patrick. She took him all around Chicago, sometimes with her brothers and Leah in tow, but usually they went by themselves. 

On his last night in town, they ate deep dish pizza and went for a walk in the park. A local band was playing for loose change and there was a full moon out with a beautiful breeze, blowing leaves all around them. Teresa’s pulse was racing and she knew she was falling in love with him. 

Maybe she had loved him all her life. 

But she pushed the feelings aside, he was leaving in the morning and their letter writing would resume. He would go back to Florida and eventually California and he would bring Angela with him. She would only be his friend, stuck in Chicago for what seemed like forever. She couldn’t let a week blind her to her reality. 

But when he took her hand, she told herself maybe it was okay if she pretended just for a little bit.

.

They said goodbye on her front porch early the next morning; he didn’t want her to take him to the greyhound station. Teresa was thankful for it, she didn’t think she could say goodbye to him without begging him to stay or without breaking down into tears. There was a moment while he whispered words of encouragement to her. And then, he hugged her. Lingering for a little bit too long before pulling away and brushing her lips with his. 

She didn’t have a chance to do it back; he pulled away and looked at her. “Goodbye,” he whispered. 

“Write to me,” she whispered back.

“I will,” he promised, turning away from her and taking the porch steps two at a time.

As she watched him go, she knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

TBC. . .

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter, I hope you guys enjoyed it. Next week, I will be wrapping everything up. Expect the chapter on Saturday though because I have a little Halloween treat planned for everybody. In the meantime, tell me what you thought of this chapter! I am looking forward to your reviews. After this story is finished, I’ll be taking a two week break while I prepare my Christmas story. I already have the first chapter halfway written.


	12. Chapter 12

.  
Chapter 12

“I can’t get her out of my head,” Patrick told Candy. “But she’s so young. She’s only a senior in high school and I’m on my way to med school. And her whole life is in Chicago. It would be unfair to ask her to uproot her life for me, that’s the whole reason she ended things with Greg. It would be unfair to ask her to wait.”

“Have you thought about what you could do for her?” Candy asked, pouring them both more iced tea and taking a long sip. “There are med schools in Chicago. You don’t have to follow Eddie to California. He’ll have Faith. He won’t need his old best friend tagging along with a beautiful woman to support him.”

“I don’t want to trap her.”

“How are you trapping her by going to Chicago? It isn’t like you’re asking for a lifetime commitment,” Candy answered. “You’re just going to be closer to her. After a while, you can decide where to go from wherever you are. But I think you will regret it if you don’t go after her. For once, you have to do something for yourself Patrick. Not for me, not for Eddie, and especially not for your dad. You have to do it for you.”

Patrick took a sip of his tea and paused, almost sure of what he had to do.

.

Dear Teresa,

He realized that was feeling something he had never experienced before: the desire to live in one place forever. With the girl with the raven hair, his days would never be the same again.

I am thinking about you. I cannot get you out of my head and I don’t want to. But I do not want to trap you, one word from you and I won’t do it even though it is the one thing I want to do more than anything right now. I was thinking about moving to Chicago to be with you. I would get my own apartment, I would give you all the distance you needed but just to be close to you would mean so much to me. 

I won’t make plans until I hear from you. But I am making plans just in case. I have Candy’s blessing, I have Eddie’s blessing. Fred told me not to let you slip away and he said that Ethel would want the same thing too. I am waiting on you and you alone my dearest friend. Please don’t keep me waiting too long.

Breathlessly your’s,  
Patrick

.

Chicago

“He actually said he wants to move here for you?” Leah asked as they made meatballs. 

“Yeah,” Teresa answered, biting her lip as she added bread crumbs and worked it into the ground beef. 

“And what have you said?” Leah asked impatiently.

“I haven’t answered him yet,” Teresa replied. “This is huge and I just ended things with Greg not too long ago.”

“So? It shouldn’t matter because Patrick might be your soul mate. Do you know how rare it is that people actually get to meet their soul mate? Do you know how much rarer it is that they actually get to be together?”

“What do you know about soul mates? You’re not even out of high school yet!” Teresa answered back. “And that’s another reason this might be a bad idea! I’m only eighteen. I have my whole life ahead of me. What if Patrick isn’t the one and then I miss out on the person who is?”

“Patrick isn’t going to leave you,” Leah said. 

“But he might,” Teresa replied. “You don’t think you’ll lose your parents and then you do. You don’t think you’ll have to raise your brothers or grow up so quickly when you’re a little girl, blowing out your candles and wishing that someday your prince will come. . .”

“Like you ever wished that someday your prince would come!” Leah retorted. “You’ve been saving yourself ever since you were a little girl Teresa. You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be. You know the secret most women will never know, there isn’t a Mr. Darcy and there definitely aren’t any fairytale endings. But what’s wrong with an imperfect prince charming to give you a hand every now and then? You shouldn’t have to do everything by yourself just to prove a point or because you can. You know the truth, just because you find the guy it doesn’t guarantee you’ll have the happy ending, but you can sure as hell try!”

Teresa shook her head. “No. My dad was in love and it literally killed him when he lost my mother. There is no way I am putting my brothers in that situation. There is no way that I’m putting any child in that situation!”

“Honey, not everybody is like your dad, you know that! You have proof!” Leah said. “You know what I think? I think you’re just scared!”

“Oh yeah?” Teresa replied. “And why would I be scared?”

“Because you’re already in love with him. You know it and I know it. It’s too late baby, so why are you fighting chemistry?”

Teresa stopped short, Leah’s question had caught her completely off-guard. What was she fighting? When he had been with her, she had been terrified he was in love with Angela and would bring her to California with him and that everything would change between them.

She bought a postcard with the Chicago skyline at night on it and wrote him two simple sentences.

.

Dear Patrick,

Come to Chicago. I will be waiting.

Love,   
Teresa

.

Florida

His old car was stuffed to the gills with his things; he was starting all over again. Candy and Billy stood with him, holding a paper bag filled with sandwiches. 

“We’ll come and visit you as soon as you're settled,” Candy promised, hugging him tightly. “Meet your girl and see the city.”

“Thanks,” Patrick replied, hugging her back. “I’ll miss you.”

“We’ll miss you too sweet boy,” Candy answered, releasing him. “But this is good for you. You need to do this.”

“Just treat her good,” Billy added. “After everything she’s been through, God knows she deserves it.”

“I promise,” Patrick replied. “I will spend the rest of my life cherishing her if she’ll let me.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Candy said, hugging him again. “You better get going; you have a long trip ahead of you.”

But they exchanged another round of goodbyes and hugs before he actually got on the road. He looked back only once and smiled at Candy and Billy as they waved him off to his new adventure.

.

Chicago

Teresa was waiting for him at his new apartment with enough groceries to feed an army and her tape player. He left the car on and jumped out to greet her, knocking her hat askew with his enthusiasm. 

She laughed and hugged him back, greeting him with a good to see you again and asking how his trip had gone. When they had chatted for a while, they got things squared away with his landlady then went up to see his apartment.

“I’ll help you get it set up,” Teresa promised as they looked at the sparse space. “I know all the places to get great deals on furniture. We’ll go shopping tomorrow, for tonight why don’t you just come and spend the night at my house? I am sure my brothers would love to see you again.”

“I’d like that,” Patrick agreed. “But first I just need to unload my car. I don’t want to drive around Chicago with my whole life.”

“Okay,” Teresa answered, setting everything she was holding down. “I’ll help.”

“Thanks,” Patrick said.

Together they made quick work of unpacking the car and then they drove back to her house where she made dinner and he entertained her brothers with magic tricks. A while later, Leah showed up with pastries for dessert and to welcome Patrick to Chicago.

She joined Teresa in the kitchen and helped her finish dinner while they chatted and listened to music. When dinner was almost finished, Leah stopped Teresa and looked at her straight in the eyes.

“You’re okay, right? You’re not going to make a run for it or anything?”

“I’m fine,” Teresa assured her. “I’m finally looking forward to moving forward.”

“Are you sure? You’re not going to run away in a few months when things start to get too serious?”

“No,” Teresa answered. “Oh no.”

.

Sacramento, California - four years later

Teresa counted to ten and then opened her eyes, staring at herself in the full mirror. 

“You look just like your mother did on her wedding day,” her aunt Lee said adjusting her veil. “You’re so beautiful honey.”

“Thank you,” Teresa whispered.

“What’s wrong?” Her cousin Kate asked. 

“I just wish my mom were here,” Teresa answered. 

“Oh sweetie. . .” Lee said, getting up and hugging her. “She is here; she’s in your heart and looking down at you. She’d be so happy for you, finding happiness with Patrick. I think she knew all those years ago this was going to happen.”

“Yeah, think so too. . .” Teresa replied, swallowing. “I’m not going to cry, don’t worry.”

Leah burst into the church nursery, half-dressed in her maid of honor dress. “I just talked to Jimmy; he said that Patrick wanted you to have this.”

Teresa laughed when she handed her an envelope. “Did you give him the letter I wrote for him?” She asked.

“Of course!” Leah answered. “Now hurry up and read his letter to you, you don’t have much time left before the ceremony starts.”

Teresa nodded and opened the envelope, stepping aside so she could have a few minutes to herself to read it. 

My dearest Teresa,

On a day like today, I think it is only fitting that I write you a letter because letters are what brought us together in the first place. I will forever be thankful to my fourth grade teacher, Miss Perkins for bringing us together. I only wish I could go back and thank her in person for giving you to me. Of course I can’t do that, because her and your old teacher Mr. Andrews are married now and living in Kenya, teaching the kids how to read and write and building houses in their spare time. Maybe they’re bringing another little boy and a girl together with words, and having no idea how they will impact their future. 

And now I have to thank you, my darling friend. You kept writing me back even after the assignment was over. You encouraged me to be something more than what my father was training me to be. And here I am today, a better man because I know your name. I have to thank you because you let me become one of your best friends even though we didn’t get to meet until we were older and life had changed us in ways we didn’t think were possible. I have to thank you because even though you had seen the negative effects of lost love, you didn’t let it dictate your choices and you let me move to Chicago to pursue you like a relentless lover. You gave me a family with your brothers and another friend with Leah. I have to thank you because you followed me to California and held me up while I finished medical school. You held me the night I lost my first patient and you said yes when I asked you to marry me. You didn’t even hesitate. I have so much to thank you for, I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you, I believe.

Today I am looking forward to seeing you walk towards me in a white dress; I am looking forward to vowing forever and always. I am looking forward to our first dance as husband and wife, to making love to you with the Eiffel Tower outside our window. I am looking forward to the rest of our lives together. My whole life has been leading to you.

I love you.

Your’s Forever  
Patrick

Teresa smiled when she finished reading the letter and released a deep breath, feeling calmer after reading Patrick’s words of love to her. 

“They’re waiting for you,” Lee said. “Are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” Teresa answered as Lee fixed the veil one more time and stood back to admire her. “I’m ready.”

_The End_

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There, a happily ever after for them. I am so glad for all the people who stuck it out with me on this journey. It has been a lot of fun. Your feedback and support for this story has meant a lot to me. I am looking forward to our next adventure together, look for it starting November 14th, it will be more of a holiday story than a Christmas story because it will span over Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s. In addition to my long Christmas story, I have several one-shots planned for other fandoms. So, maybe there will be something that tickles your fancy. The next couple of Fridays, I might do some filler stories for my 13 Wishes collection or another series. I don’t know until I actually look at my notebooks.  
> Now, one last time for old time’s sake, please tell me what you thought. And look out for the soundtrack to Love, Teresa on my 8tracks account (browneyesparker).

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there’s the first chapter. I hope you’ll tell me what you think. If you didn’t like it, I have two other story ideas in the back of my mind. Leave a review in the box below if you’d like to see more or not. This is completely up to my readers.
> 
> See you soon.


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